


Another Quarantine AU (Bury the Hatchet)

by QuarantineKate



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa Endgame, Everybody Lives, F/F, Last one I promise, Light Angst, Nobody Dies, One night stand to enemies to friends to lovers, Rated M for language, and a smattering of smut, obviously, quarantine au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuarantineKate/pseuds/QuarantineKate
Summary: Both freshly wounded by heartbreak, Clarke and Lexa hook up at a wedding. They don’t exchange names or numbers - don’t expect to see each other again. Imagine their surprise when they end up at the same bar with the same group of friends, and both with a vastly different recollection of where the night went wrong. And on top of everything else, there is a pandemic that is threatening to force them together.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Anya/Raven Reyes, Bellamy Blake/Echo, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Monty Green & Harper McIntyre, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 113
Kudos: 422





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last quarantine fic y’all, I promise - I go back to work on Monday so my quarantine days are officially over! The fic is complete, though, (50k) and I will update it as frequently as I can (every other night-ish time permitting). I hope you like it. Come yell at me on Tumblr if you feel like it (@quarantinekate) and stay safe! :)

What a fucking week it had been. Lexa finally finished moving the rest of her belongings into the apartment over Anya’s garage, found a job at the gym around the corner, and somehow managed to pull herself together well enough to come to this party. It was completely crazy - her cousin Lincoln met a spunky tattoo artist named Octavia about six months ago and, on a whim (it must have been) decided to marry her. Lexa couldn’t even fathom that. She and Costia had been together for two years and... well at least she wasn’t in the middle of a messy divorce on top of everything else.

When Anya came home on Monday, she had mentioned that Lincoln and Octavia actually got married at the courthouse a few weeks back and his mother hadn’t been very happy with her only son when she found out - but since she couldn’t do a big wedding for him, she decided to throw them a party to celebrate. If Lexa had still been in Chicago with... anyway, she probably wouldn’t have even known about it, but now that she was back, Anya said she had to go - it didn’t matter that her own heart was shattered. Her cousin was in love and she was going to be happy for him, dammit.

So, there she was on Friday evening, standing outside the hotel ballroom in her nicest black slacks, a pink button-up peeking out from underneath her sport coat, with a fake smile plastered across her face. After a quick pep talk, Lexa crossed the threshold into the ballroom and looked around for any familiar face.

“Lexa!” Lincoln’s voice boomed from somewhere across the room, through the throngs of people drinking champagne and laughing, and her smile turned a bit more genuine at the sound.

He came bounding over to her, a short but fit brunette on his arm (must have been Octavia). He released her hand and wrapped his cousin into a tight bear hug that normally Lexa was not a fan of, but for some reason, she found comforting (just this once).

“Hey, Linc! How the hell are you?”

“Married!” Lincoln’s smile was the widest and brightest she had ever seen on him, and maybe her heart was still in pieces, but marriage looked really good on him, she could admit that at least. “This,” he stepped aside and nudged Octavia toward her, “is my beautiful, bad-ass _wife_ , Octavia.”

“Hi.” The girl smiled at Lexa, then looked back to Lincoln and okay, Lexa didn’t know anything about the girl, but it would seem marriage looked good on her, too.

“Hello.” Lexa reached across the space between them with her hand and _damn_ the girl had a firm grip. “I’m Lexa. We’re cousins.”

“Okay, cool. Wait - Lexa, Anya’s sister?”

“The one and only,” she replied with a smirk.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, actually. You were in the military, right?”

“I was. I got out two years ago.”

“But you still box, right? I’m always up for a new sparring partner. Lincoln sucks.”

“Hey!” He feigned offense, but kept on smiling at his wife like he was the luckiest guy in the whole entire world. It was gross. “She’s too quick, sometimes, but I have beaten her before. Just so you know.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have.” Lexa winked at Octavia. “But yeah, I just moved back and I got a job over at the Arkadia Health and Wellness Center, as a trainer. They have a pretty phenomenal setup.”

“Oh, you fancy,” she laughed. “I usually just go to Conclave MMA - it’s a kind of hole in the wall, but it has two boxing rings set up in the back. Echo owns it and she’s dating my brother, so I get a free pass to spar whenever I have time.”

“Well, when things settle down a bit, I might just have to kick your ass since my cousin can’t.”

“Ha! Challenge accepted!”

The more time she spent with Octavia, the more it all made sense to her. She and Lincoln fit together, just fit, in a way Lexa supposed she never really fit with... but she was happy for him, for them both, to have found each other. Lincoln excused them so they could mingle with the other guests and Lexa reserved herself to hang out by the bar, right next to enough alcohol to dull the ache she felt, while she scoped the room out in search of Anya.

“Shit party, am I right?”

“What?” Lexa looked up from her drink, broken out of her thoughts by a gorgeous blonde with a holy set of tits, _Jesus_ , those were magnificent, and soft blue eyes that looked like maybe, given the right circumstances, they could really shine.

“I mean, it’s fine for couples, I’m sure. But a wedding party is a shit place to be if you’re nursing a broken heart.”

“I, how did you-”

The woman shrugged. “You look like how I feel, that’s all. I don’t mean to assume, it’s just-”

“No,” Lexa sighed into her drink. “You’re not wrong.”

“I rarely am.” the blonde quirked a brow as a tight, little smile played at her lips. “So, what’s your story then? Who was it?”

There was absolutely no reason for Lexa to explain, to share anything, with this stranger. And yet, those blue eyes were alluring and kind and Lexa found herself spilling everything without even thinking about it.

“Costia. I, uh, I was gone for a few days, for a judo competition - that I won, by the way - and instead of celebrating, I came home to an empty apartment. She left a note, though, so that’s nice.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, apparently she got a job offer in Tokyo that was too good to pass up. Didn’t occur to her that, after two years, I’d have gone with her... Oh, but she paid the rent through the end of the next month, you know, so I could find a new place. She was always very thoughtful that way.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, yeah. I get that from your story. She seems like a really thoughtful person.”

“Mm,” Lexa smiled. “So, what about you?”

“Mine just seems lame now, compared to that. I’m not sure I want to tell you.”

“What? Come on, I showed you mine. Now show me yours.” There was no reason for her curiosity, not one she could explain, but there was just something about the blonde, and she just... wanted to know more.

“Alright, okay... Finn. Came from a good family, my mother said so. And he had a good job, too, working at a small firm, trying to make partner, all that nonsense. And he’d been busy, working on a big case, he said, so I thought ‘fuck it’ I’ll go surprise him, you know? Reward him for his hard work, so to speak. But, I guess, it was me who ended up with a surprise because I walked in right as he came inside his boss’s daughter.”

“Damn. You think you know a guy, and then you realize he’s the fuck-his-way-to-the-top type.”

“I know! Honestly, that is the worst type, too. Because they get away with it, and make it seem like it’s just women who do that shit, but no - men do it, too.”

“Men are the worst.” Lexa nodded. “You were right, though. Mine’s worse.”

The blonde laughed, deep and throaty and Lexa liked the sound a little too much because suddenly, she was thinking about the other kinds of sounds she could elicit from the blonde and that was not appropriate - not after everything she’d been through the past month. There was no way her heart could take it, that much she knew.

“I know, I told you mine would be lame in comparison.”

“No, I’m just kidding. It sucks all the way around.”

“Mm...” she hummed in agreement and downed what was left of the champagne in her glass. “I’m not usually this forward, but... we’ve got some time before they cut the cake, probably need your sharp-ass jawline to do it, so I’d make sure you’re back in time... if you-”

“I don’t think they’ll be using my jaw for that and I’m not really a fan of cake.”

“Well I have a room... here, at the hotel... if you want to-”

“Okay.”

It was a terrible idea. She didn’t even know the woman’s name, didn’t know anything about her,except the way her dress hugged delicious curves, clung tightly in all of the right places, but somehow managed to leave just enough up to Lexa’s imagination that she knew she wanted to see more. And fuck, after the month she’d had, Lexa deserved to have a little fun, and what harm could there be in hooking up with a stranger at a wedding party?

People did that sort of thing all the time, (she didn’t know, but she assumed), and just because it was not like her at all, it didn’t mean it was actually a terrible idea, she reasoned. And the way those blue eyes turned a little bit darker as she studied Lexa, waited for her to make a move to follow, it was immediately clear that she would follow that woman anywhere.

The room was pretty sparse - there was a small duffel bag on the desk and a jug of water next to it, like maybe the blonde was planning on riding out a hangover in the hotel, or was prepared to at the very least.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the woman was in her space, hands gripping the lapels of her jacket as she pushed Lexa against the wall. Lexa threaded her fingers into lush blonde curls and pulled the woman in to meet her lips. The hot, feverish kiss quickly turned into more and a shiver shot down Lexa’s spine when their tongues met, not enough and too much all at once.

She pushed into the woman, backed her toward the bed, hands roaming down the blonde’s back, to the swell of her ass, and back up to the zipper of her dress. Lexa gently tugged at the zipper, slid it down slowly, fingers grazing the woman’s spine as she did and her breath caught at the touch, Lexa was sure of that, and it only spurred her on further. She pushed the dress down off of the most perfect pair of tits Lexa had ever seen and if she got lost in them, she didn’t even care. And the way the woman smirked at her as she ogled them, Lexa presumed she wasn’t bothered by it, either.

Lexa was so distracted, mouth dry, eyes dark, that she didn’t even notice when the blonde pushed her jacket off, let if fall to the floor, and started working at the buttons on her shirt. Hot, wet lips against her neck pulled Lexa out of her stupor and all at once, it seemed, she realized she could do more than look at the beautiful woman before her - her hands started to roam again, caressing soft skin and working the dress all the way off of her body.

Fuck, she was really beautiful, and it didn’t matter that Lexa didn’t know her name, she wanted to know her body, wanted to touch and taste every inch of skin on display. Lexa worked the button of her own pants as the woman finished with her shirt and as soon as their clothes met in a messy heap on the floor, their bodies were flush. When Lexa kissed the blonde again, it was hungry and needy.

They fell into bed in a messy tangle of limbs, and fuck, if Lexa had ever seen a more perfect body in all her life, she didn’t recall it. And God, the way the woman squirmed underneath her, reacted to every touch, every flick of Lexa’s tongue against hers, the sounds, _fuck_ , the sounds she made when Lexa teased her fingers around soaked folds, gathered up the wetness and pressed into her clit - she was fucking beautiful. Fingers tangled into Lexa’s hair, pushed her head lower in a silent plea for more and Lexa had to, needed to give the woman everything she wanted.

Lexa moved lower, kissed her way across those perfect tits, took her time working the blonde up until she was bucking her body into Lexa, before she moved lower. She kissed her way down the woman’s stomach, felt it flutter and flex, and when she finally plunged her tongue inside, she felt heat flood out, coat her chin, and fuck if this woman wasn’t perfect because she tasted like fucking Heaven on earth and Lexa couldn’t get enough. She drank it all in, licked and sucked and savored the flavor until the woman’s pleas became more vocal, curses tumbling from pouty lips, and Lexa lifted her head enough to see blown pupils and a heaving chest, and Jesus, if she weren’t so broken, she could easily fall in love with a sight like that.

Lexa pushed her fingers in slowly, watched the blonde adjust to the fill, locked her eyes on the woman as she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and clutched at the sheets, and then Lexa felt walls swallow and suck her fingers in until she was knuckle deep and dizzied by the woman spread out underneath her. Lexa’s lips attacked hot, sweaty skin, as she worked her way up and over perfect breasts. She sucked at the woman’s pulse point as she moved in and out, curled her fingers with every other thrust, felt the woman’s legs start to shake, saw her eyes slam shut, and watched the blonde break before her. It was the most beautiful thing Lexa had ever seen in her entire life, the way her legs quaked and her back arched off the bed, head thrown back, screaming words that never sounded as sweet as they did right then, and fuck, Lexa was in trouble.

“Jesus, fuck,” the woman breathed out as she collapsed back onto the bed, body spent. “What are you, like a god or something?”

“What?” Lexa asked, genuinely curious. She started to draw lazy patterns on the blonde’s skin, smiling, and waited for her to explain.

“I just... like, fuck, you knew my body better than,” blue eyes looked up at her with an intensity that made her _feel_ , made her heart beat faster, “better than anybody I’ve-”

Lexa cut her off with an urgent kiss that she felt _everywhere_ and _oh no_ it was not a one-night stand kind of kiss, and the way the woman leaned into it, scratched lightly at the baby hairs on the back of Lexa’s neck, a soft contented sigh escaping as she did, _fuck_ , Lexa had to get out of there.

Lexa’s phone chirped in the pocket of her pants, from somewhere in the crumpled mess of their clothes on the floor, and thank fucking God it did because she had to get out of that room, but if she looked into those blue eyes again, she knew she would stay forever and _fuck_.

“I should go... my sister is looking for me,” she sighed from the edge of the bed, phone in her hand and sheets wrapped haphazardly around her waist.

“Help me get my dress back on first?” The woman’s voice was quiet, almost shy, and Lexa paused for a moment, wondering what that meant.

“Of course.” Lexa replied softly, because it wasn’t the blonde’s fault Lexa had a sudden change of heart, or that her heart had been changed at all, that it was beating faster than it had in a long time, that Lexa was terrified of what it meant. _Jesus Christ, woman, pull yourself together._

Her hair was a mess and her clothes were wrinkled and she really should have had the foresight to fold her clothes up at least before she fucked a literal angel into oblivion and _oh my God, stop._

She could only hope that it wasn’t painfully obvious how badly her hands were shaking as she pulled the zipper up along the woman’s back, or how visibly rattled their encounter, however brief, had made her.

After a quick finger-comb through her messy mane and firm press down her shirt and jacket (as if it was going to help at all), Lexa slipped out of the hotel room and headed back to the party where Anya was waiting.

“Where the fuck have you been? You look - oh my God, Lexa, did you seriously go get fucked while I stood down here waiting and worrying about you?”

“ _I_ didn’t get fucked, and whatever, you weren’t even here yet when-” Shit. So much for trying to pretend she hadn’t just had a one night stand. She cringed at the term. It was so totally unlike her to do something so... God, but she was powerless to blue eyes that looked like the perfect summer sky and there was no way she would ever regret it.

“Oh my God, Lexa!”

Anya spent fifteen more minutes teasing and ridiculing her to no end, but when she caught sight of golden hair and that perfect body bounding through the ballroom doors, she stopped listening, entranced by the memory and-

“Um, hello... Earth to Lexa.” Anya waved her hand in front of Lexa’s face and she snapped to attention.

“Wha-”

“This is Raven.” Anya gestured to the woman beside her, and yeah that made sense, she was definitely Anya’s type. “My girlfriend.”

“Oh, shit, right! Sorry, Raven, hi.” Lexa took the Latina woman’s hand in hers and shook once. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, you too. So, did you get settled? Anya said you moved in.”

“Yes, thank you for asking. She’s making me stay above the garage, though.”

“Oh, that’s for your benefit.” Raven winked. “I have a particular set of skills and she’s got a healthy set of lungs, if you know what I mean.”

“Gross.”

“Raven, stop it.” Anya swatted playfully at her girlfriend’s shoulder and was that, was Anya... _blushing_? Super gross. Lexa had never, ever seen her sister blush before.

“Ew, no. You guys are gross,” Lexa said sternly as she turned to walk away, to get as far as away from those images as she could, and smacked right into perfect curves and soft skin-

“Oof,” the blonde let out a little huff before she realized who had hit her, and then a curious expression spread across her face, one eyebrow quirked in a question Lexa couldn’t answer.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” Fuck, Lexa felt awkward, her ears and cheeks suddenly pink as fresh memories of their tryst flooded her mind.

“No, no, it’s fine... Um...” the blonde looked down at her feet, and then back up to Lexa and for a second, Lexa thought she saw something in those beautiful blue eyes, but... no, it couldn’t be, it didn’t make sense. Lexa was just heartbroken and her mind was playing tricks on her and she had to get out of there before her hand reached across the space between them to tuck those stray hairs behind a small, slightly pink ear, and fuck, she was being ridiculous.

“Excuse me,” she said to the woman and bowed her head as she moved as quickly as her feet would take her. She needed air, or alcohol, or both.

Lexa spent the rest of the evening avoiding the blonde at every turn, and more than once, she thought she saw a flash of hurt cross her eyes, but Lexa blamed it on the lighting because there was no way - the blonde was also heartbroken, it was just a one-time thing, they didn’t even exchange names or numbers, and Lexa was reading into it, she knew that.

And her suspicions were confirmed later that night. Lexa opened the ballroom door on her way out, more than ready to get home, (Or well, to Anya’s... No, home. It was her home now.) and caught a familiar flash of blonde hair in the elevator across from her, the same blonde she’d been avoiding since... draped over a tall, muscular guy with broad shoulders and messy, dark hair that fell across his forehead.

If Lexa had been paying attention, she might have noticed the resemblance he shared with Octavia, might have noticed that the blonde was champagne-drunk and holding him for balance and nothing more, or that he was looking at her like a protective older brother, but she didn’t - Lexa saw what she saw, and not for the first time that month, felt like a fucking fool.

_____

Working at the gym was a welcome change for Lexa. When she and Costia were living together, back in Chicago, Lexa worked security for an office building that had never seen so much as a suspicious bird, let alone person, but they paid her well because of her military background and that was all that really mattered... well all that mattered to Costia, anyway.

But the job was boring and even though Lexa didn’t hate it, necessarily, she didn’t really like it, either. Lexa never felt like it was challenging her in the ways her job with the military had - and she needed that, needed to feel like what she was doing made a difference, somehow.

But training at Arkadia Health and Wellness Center was a dream job, comparatively speaking - Lexa had clients that ranged in age from twenty-two to sixty, all genuinely looking for guidance and help with meeting their goals, and Lexa could push them and break them and build them back up all in a one hour session. And they all feared her as much as they loved her. Three weeks into the job and she was booked solid, the most sought after trainer on the staff, and if the other trainers were a little bit jealous of her popularity, they did their best not to show it. Besides, the busier Lexa was, the more free time they had to work out on their own.

But even for all of the state-of-the-art equipment at AHWC, it couldn’t really compare to the old-school feel, the blood-mixed-with-sweat smell, of Echo’s gym across town. It reminded her too much of the military, in a good way, in a way Lexa didn’t realize she had even been missing. And sparring with Octavia was probably Lexa’s new favorite hobby. They’d met up a few times and Lexa had to give it to Octavia, she definitely had skills, but if she could actually best Lexa, it hadn’t happened yet.

And that’s where Lexa was, Wednesday evening, when the news broke. Somewhere in Asia, there was a new virus, (they were calling it the Lagervirus) that was quickly spreading and, despite being on the other side of the world, was a cause for concern to some of the top scientific aides to the White House.

“Fuck, dude,” Octavia sighed. “That’s crazy. Hey, Lexa, what do you say to, instead of kicking my ass tonight, letting me drink you under the table at my favorite bar.”

“So competitive, I like it. I’m not sure you’ve got a chance at that, either, but I’ll take you up on the offer. I could go for a beer,” she shrugged.

“Excellent. One of my best friends, Clarke, she’s a bartender down at The Ark and they’re running some solid drink specials tonight. There’s a good group of people going, and Raven usually brings Anya along if she can,” she glanced down at her phone before adding, “Lincoln just texted and said he’s gonna swing by and pick us up in a few.”

Costia had a pretty sizable group of friends in Chicago, mostly girls from her sorority and whatever guys they were dating, but none of them were ever really Lexa’s friends. And it didn’t bother her, it really didn’t, but every time they all hung out, it made Lexa homesick for the military, for her brothers and sisters in arms, for the friends she had made who understood her in ways that Costia never tried to.

So, when O invited her out that night, it felt like maybe Lexa could find that again, could be part of a group of friends that she had chosen, that she could get to know separate from any relationship she was in, just as herself, as Lexa, and not as someone’s girlfriend.

And Lexa was riding that high, the buzz of her new life thrumming through her body, as they all walked into the bar that night. It was sleek but casual with low lighting and crisp, cool colors throughout. The booths were dark blue and cleaner than Lexa expected them to be, given how clumsy and sloppy people got when they were drunk, and she was so focused on her surroundings that she failed to notice the blonde bartender watching her intently.

Lexa followed behind Octavia and Lincoln as they headed for a large table near the back, never looking toward the bar, instead focused on the large group of people already seated there.

“Alright, introductions! Everybody, this is Lincoln’s cousin, Lexa. Oh, and Anya’s sister. She moved here a few weeks ago from Chicago.”

Everybody waved and welcomed her, and Lexa tried to memorize the names of the people around the table (Harper: pretty in an average kind of way, kind smile, Monty: Harper’s boyfriend, or if he wasn’t he wanted to be, Jasper: really goofy looking dude, odd, and Monroe: who had a first name that nobody had used since high school). She grabbed a seat across from Lincoln and joined the conversation with relative ease and it felt comfortable and nice.

Lexa was wholly absorbed in the story Jasper was telling the group about an experiment at work that had gone horribly wrong, showing off the burn on his arm as he did so, when she felt a presence at her side, lingering there, waiting. There was a hand placed casually on a curvy hip that was kind of popped out to the side, too close to Lexa not to steal her attention away from the goofy guy across from her.

But dear God, she was not at all prepared to look up and find curious blue eyes boring into her, as if they were trying to figure her out, to place her maybe, but Lexa knew immediately - it was the blonde from the party, standing right next to her. Lexa gulped and tried to swallow, averted her gaze and stared at the beer in front of her, picked at the label, anything to avoid the the weight of whatever it was the blonde was trying to say, or ask, with her eyes.

“Clarke!” Octavia broke the blonde’s concentration, pulled her eyes away from Lexa, thank God, because she needed a drink and she needed to breathe and she’d felt that way before-

“Hey. Who’s the new girl?” Clarke (her name is Clarke) pointed down at the top of Lexa’s head and suddenly, Lexa felt shy and small.

“That’s Lexa!”

“Anya’s sister? ... Oh. That actually, that makes sense. Shit, okay.” She mumbled most of that to herself, but Lexa heard it all, Clarke’s internal thoughts sort of spilling out as she worked through it.

“Yeah! She’s been kicking my ass at the gym, too. Can you join us for a bit?”

“Oh, um... no, I shouldn’t.” Clarke’s voice was small and she sounded a little bit like how Lexa felt and that didn’t make much sense to Lexa because... wasn’t it Clarke who had seduced her only to leave with another man later that same night? What on earth did she have to feel wary about? It wasn’t like Lexa had done anything wrong.

“Clarke,” Octavia whined, already a little bit tipsy. “It’s not fun coming to the bar if you won’t even hang out with us, come on! Sit! For a little bit, please?”

Before Clarke could say no again, Raven and Anya had appeared behind her and Raven pushed her down into the seat next to Lexa and yeah, she definitely looked like Lexa felt, shy and a little bit uncomfortable to be so close, but... no, Lexa was just losing her touch - Costia must have done a real number on her if she couldn’t even read people correctly anymore.

“Don’t worry, y’all - the party has arrived!” Raven shouted as she reached across the table to pour herself a beer from the pitcher Monty had gotten.

Anya grabbed the seat on Lexa’s left and laughed at her girlfriend who had started high-fiving her friends around the table. Anya placed a hand on Lexa’s thigh, squeezed once, ‘are you okay?’ was left unsaid, but Lexa nodded to her sister and Anya moved her hand back to the top of the table and reached for the pitcher Raven had set back down.

“What did you mean,” Lexa whispered to Clarke, curiosity having gotten the better of her, “when you said it makes sense that I’m Anya’s sister?”

“Hmm?” Clarke asked, as if she hadn’t quite heard, hadn’t been paying attention at all to Lexa, before. “Just, you know... the whole cold and distant thing you guys do. Took like two months before Anya ever cracked a smile in front of anybody here. That’s all.” She just shrugged and turned her head away.

What? Sure, maybe Lexa was a bit absent after their... rendezvous, but she didn’t owe Clarke anything, they weren’t friends, she didn’t even know the woman’s name that night, for fuck’s sake, and Lexa wasn’t the one who left the party with somebody else, so... what the hell? She steeled her expression in preparation for a calm retort to Clarke’s assessment.

“I wouldn’t say we’re cold, actually,” Lexa replied cooly, thankful that she had managed it so well. “We’re just more practical than most. There’s no point in getting close to people when you know they’ll just end up disappointing you at the end of the night.”

“Oh really?” Blue eyes flashed dark and angry at Lexa. “ _I_ disappointed _you_ , did I? At least I didn’t fucking hide from you, from what I _felt_ , I- at least I’m not a _coward_.”

“Excuse me?” How dare she even-

“Uh, guys,” Raven was standing at the end of the table, eyes wide and darting back and forth between Lexa and Clarke. “Everything okay?”

No. But fuck, the entire table was staring at them, and before Lexa could reply, Clarke had pushed out of her seat and stalked back over to the bar. Lexa looked at several bewildered pairs of eyes all around the table, all focused on her.

“Hey,” Anya stood up and grabbed her arm, “come with me for a minute.”

Lexa pushed against the table and stood, nodded to Anya and followed behind her as she headed for the front door. She felt blue eyes on her as she did, but Lexa didn’t dare look back.

“What the hell happened in there?”

What did happen? Clarke insulted her, accused her of being a coward, a _coward_! As if. Lexa had gone off to war, had fought overseas, had seen things, and Lexa may be a lot of things but she was not a fucking coward. Clarke said something else, too, but Lexa couldn’t remember, couldn’t focus on anything but that word, coward, and it made her blood boil. But she couldn’t let Anya see it, couldn’t let anyone know how badly Clarke’s comment had cut her-

“Nothing, I don’t know,” Lexa lied.

“Clarke is like, the glue, or whatever, that holds that group together. I don’t know what you aren’t telling me, but you might want to fix it, whatever it is because... Lexa, those are my friends now, and if you’re going to stick around - and I hope that you do - they’ll be your friends, too.”

“What do you want me to do, Anya?” She kept her voice steady despite the storm of rage building inside of her.

“I don’t know, kid. March your happy ass back in there, smile, and apologize.”

“Fuck, Anya,” she sighed. “Fine.”

What else was she supposed to do? Up until Clarke appeared beside her, Lexa had been having a really good time, and she genuinely liked everybody at the table. She’d become fast friends with all of them, it had been easy to do. And if Clarke really did mean that much to them... Lexa would just have to be reasonable, would have to set her pride aside and accept that, hard as it might be, she was going to see Clarke around from time to time. So, she took a deep breath and followed her big sister back inside.

Clarke was glaring at her from behind the bar when she stepped through the front door. _Awesome_. Lexa took several cautious steps toward the table, eyes trained on the floor in front of her as she did, in an attempt to avoid the daggers coming her way.

“Hey,” she said to the group, who had continued their conversations in her absence. “I’m, um, I’m sorry about that. It was just a misunderstanding.”

“No worries. She’s pretty stubborn, you know? You’re not the first person here who’s ended up on the wrong side of Clarke Griffin,” Harper piped up and everybody laughed.

Octavia told her about the time in tenth grade when a cheerleader from their rival high school accidentally stepped on Clarke’s sketchbook and left a shoe print on the portrait she had been drawing for her art class - Clarke joined the cheer team and made it her mission to stomp their asses at Regionals, and she had.

Raven recalled the time in college when she ate the last bag of Clarke’s popcorn without asking so Clarke ate Raven’s last three cup-of-noodles in one sitting and left them on Raven’s desk stacked up to make a point. Raven just laughed at the memory and shook her head.

Jasper had a lot of stories about Clarke and out of everybody there, he made Lexa feel the most at ease. Because it seemed like he and Clarke were at odds more than they were in agreement and yet, he still had a place at the table.

If Lexa considered talking to the blonde before she left, she decided against it. She caught a ride home with Anya and even though her sister tried, Lexa didn’t tell her what had happened with Clarke, why they were fighting, what they were fighting about, because it didn’t really matter. Anything Lexa had thought or felt that night, about Clarke, for Clarke, had ended when she left with that guy. And it wasn’t like it hurt, and even if it did, it was just Lexa’s pride that had been damaged. And after their altercation earlier, there was no way Lexa wanted anything to do with Clarke - she’d keep her distance and push the woman out of her mind entirely.

_______

The next time Lexa went out with everybody, she kept the promise she’d made to herself and stayed away from Clarke. She sat at the opposite end of the table and didn’t engage in the same conversations. Even when they all started talking about the Lagervirus and how it had already spread to Europe, she kept quiet. It was definitely scary, the thought of it hitting home, and what it might mean, what tactical approaches were probably being made already by the military, but she didn’t say anything at all.

And when she left for the evening, she got hugs and well-wishes and everything felt normal, like she was part of the group despite the growing animosity between her and Clarke, and it was fine, that every time she accidentally looked at the blonde, blue eyes were looking right back at her. It was unnerving, if only because, once or twice, it really did look like there was something in them, something that almost looked like... hurt. But that was impossible because it was common knowledge that Clarke disliked Lexa and wanted nothing to do with her, was only willing to put up with her for the sake of Raven (for Anya) and Octavia who really liked Lexa a lot.

When Octavia invited them all to watch a friendly little bout between her and Lexa, Lexa just assumed Clarke wouldn’t show up, but she did. She sat in the back, behind Raven and Anya, and Lexa could swear Clarke cheered when Octavia landed a particularly heavy blow, but her ears were kind of ringing and its possible she imagined it... but it was unlikely.

They all went out to a pool hall for drinks afterward. When she walked past Clarke on her way to the bathroom, Lexa overheard Clarke tell Octavia, ‘You should have hit her harder,’ to which Octavia replied, ‘I wish you’d just tell us all what the fuck you have against her,’ and, as Lexa opened the door to the bathroom, it sounded like Clarke maybe scoffed or huffed or something.

Still, for the most part, Lexa remained impassive and impartial toward Clarke, at least as far as anybody could tell. If she learned anything in the military, it was that she was not weak, that she could not be broken, and no matter what she had to endure from Clarke, Lexa always came out looking like the more reasonable party. Except that one time when she had had enough of Clarke’s bullshit and one beer too many.

Clarke walked up to the table with a smile on her face and Lexa avoided her gaze, even as she felt it on her, distracted by the pint of beer she had just poured herself.

“What are you guys up to tonight?” she asked Harper as she set a new pitcher on the table.

“We were just doing a quiz to figure out what Disney princess we are! I got Snow White, which is just stupid - I don’t even like apples.”

“You like hard apple cider, though,” Clarke countered. “Who’s next?”

“Oh.” Harper looked down at the table before she responded quietly, “Lexa.”

“That’s easy,” Clarke waved it off. “Elsa.”

“What? Why would I be Elsa?” She shouldn’t have asked, she should have just nodded and let it go.

“Well it’s so obvious, _Lexa_. You guys both have the whole conceal-don’t-feel thing going on and you’re kind of an ice queen,” Clarke explained, a smug smile growing as she watched Lexa’s eyes turn darker.

“So who does that make you? Ariel - impulsive and immature?”

Clarke scoffed and started to respond before Raven stood and declared she did not want to be a princess at all - Raven was more like Timon, she reasoned, because of her impeccable comedic timing and clever mind. And, if Raven was trying to diffuse the escalating argument between them, it worked because Clarke laughed and walked away.

Lexa, on the other hand, did her best to seem small in the chair, angry with herself for letting Clarke get to her, for saying anything at all. She didn’t make that mistake again, not in a public setting like that. They traded barbs on one other occasion, when Lexa had gone to the bar to get another beer, but nobody had been around to hear the bite of her tone, so she allowed herself the misstep and moved past it.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about how much it seemed like Clarke hated _her_. Because... well, what the fuck? It had been three months since the party but Clarke showed no signs of letting up one bit and Lexa didn’t even _want_ to be friends with Clarke, but shit, she would appreciate it if they could at least be civil... And it didn’t help that she still didn’t know _why_ Clarke was acting like the injured party.

On top of everything, Clarke had been wearing very low cut shirts every time they all met up. Not that Lexa would accuse Clarke of doing it on purpose, but... the way Clarke followed Lexa’s eyes, it felt like a trap and Lexa tried to avoid looking at those miraculous tits, even succeeded more often than not, but, God, when Clarke wore that bright blue top with an excessively plunging neckline, the one that matched her eyes and highlighted her beauty (and shit, Lexa had been doing such a good job of refusing to allow those kinds of thoughts to enter her mind but damn she was only human) Lexa failed.

Clarke was standing at the pool table across from her, head thrown back in laughter, and it reminded Lexa all too well of that night, of Clarke’s head thrown back for an entirely different reason, and her eyes started to wander at the memory, down Clarke’s neck and shoulders, and fuck, Lexa didn’t know how long she’d been staring but when she looked back up, Clarke was looking at her, too, and there was something dangerous in her eyes and fuck, if looks could kill, Lexa thought for sure, in that moment, she’d be dead on the floor.

But they couldn’t and she wasn’t and the next time they all went out, Lexa made an excuse to stay home. She didn’t trust herself not to say something, or do something, incredibly stupid, not after that moment of extreme weakness she was still cursing herself for. And even if she had gone out, they could only avoid the growing animosity for so long before it would come to a head - they’d probably have a huge knock-down, drag-out fight in the parking lot of a bowling alley or something.

And Lexa could kick Clarke’s ass, but she never would. It didn’t matter how badly Clarke had hurt her so many months ago, how many things Clarke still said that stung more than Lexa wanted to admit - she never wanted to hurt Clarke, never meant to reply so rudely the few times she had, didn’t like the look Clarke got, even if Lexa still didn’t know _why_ , would probably _never_ know why...

It didn’t matter. As long as their interactions remained few and far between, or at least with a sizable distance between them when they were forced into the same building, she could hold out, could stay strong and take it... If she had to guess, it would be at least six months, she’d bet money on it, before she really couldn’t take it anymore.

_______

“Oh shit... well what does he expect you to do?... He’s not going to charge you rent then, right?... No, no... I agree... Well, you know you can stay here... Yeah, so?... I mean, no she’s not going to like it either, but remember what Octavia said... Exactly, so maybe... Yeah, I’ll talk to her and call you back... Okay, love you... Bye.”

Lexa listened to Anya’s side of the conversation from the couch and wondered what it was about, but she didn’t want to be too nosy, so she tried to focus on the latest Lagervirus headlines that were scrolling along the bottom of the television instead _. (England, once the greatest invading force now invaded by Lagervirus, closing borders... US President eats Cheetos during briefing, staffers say he is in denial... Scientists everywhere saying ‘I told you so’)_

“So, Lexa... there’s been a sort of situation at Raven’s apartment.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, apparently there was a flooding issue awhile back and they found mold in the walls, so the landlord said she has to be out of the apartment while they do repairs and... it could be three or four weeks before they finish.”

“Damn, that sucks. So she’s staying here?”

“Yeah, but she has a roommate and... I said they could both stay.”

“Are you kicking me out of the garage apartment?”

“No.”

“Then what’s with the tone? You sound like you’re about to tell me my dog died or something. And I don’t have a dog, so... ”

“It’s Clarke,” Anya rushed out. “Her roommate is Clarke.”

“No.”

“Lexa-”

“No fucking way, Ahn. You cannot be serious right now.”

“Well, I am. And to be fair, Clarke hates it as much as you do, so-”

“I don’t hate her.” Lexa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What... what the hell happened between the two of you? Are you ever going to tell me?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. Then I don’t care how you feel about her, suck it the fuck up because they’ll be here in a couple of hours.”

If looks _could_ kill, it was Anya who would be a pile of ash on the floor, burned up by the fire in Lexa’s eyes. _Un-fucking-believable._ Lexa tolerated Clarke’s jibes in public to save face, but in her own home? She couldn’t be expected to be perfectly polite _all_ the time, and if Clarke so much as looked at her the wrong way, or the right way (No. What?) then Lexa felt pretty confident she would lose any self-control she had left - it was already wearing incredibly thin, that much was clear to her.

“Oh and Lexa, can you do me a favor?” Pfft. No.

“What?”

“Can you go make the guest room pretty and presentable for her, please?”

“Fuck. You.”

“Thanks!” Anya replied sweetly and Lexa knew she didn’t really have a choice in the matter because some of her shit was still on the bed in boxes, like old photographs and mementos and, well it wasn’t all _hers_ but she didn’t feel like dealing with it, so she had left it there, untouched, in the room they never used...

Lexa opened the closet and piled the boxes up inside, didn’t notice the picture that fell out and landed halfway under the bed, before she smoothed out the bedspread and fluffed a couple of the pillows. The room was good enough, she decided, for someone like Clarke anyway. It did have a bed, after all, and that was all Clarke seemed to need, really, so. And yeah, it was petty, but Lexa felt like being petty and she might as well get it out of her system now because Anya wasn’t going tolerate much of her shit once they arrived. _Ugh_!

_______

Raven and Clarke pulled up a little after six and Anya showed Clarke to the guest room before taking Raven’s bags into her own. Lexa stood awkwardly in the kitchen and watched Clarke struggle with three suitcases and a backpack.

“Do you... I could help,” Lexa offered against her better judgment.

“When have you ever _helped_ a situation? I’m fine.”

Seriously? Infuriating. Obnoxious. Rude. Lexa was still running through all of the things she’d like to say back to Clarke when they all met back up in the kitchen fifteen minutes later and Anya suggested she order some pizzas for dinner.

“There’s a special here for three large pizzas, so what’s everybody feeling? Clarke?”

“Um, I usually get the vegetarian.” Lexa snorted. “What?”

“Nothing, I just... I figured you were more for a sausage kind of girl, that’s all.” She shouldn’t have said it, but apparently she hadn’t worked the pettiness out of her system, and she blamed her proximity to Clarke for the comment - she must have been rubbing off on Lexa.

“What is your fucking problem? Oh my God-”

“Lexa, what the fuck?” Anya shot her a death glare that reminded Lexa of all the times Anya kicked her ass when they were kids, and she steeled her expression immediately.

“Nothing. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, a vegetarian and Raven, I know you like Supreme, extra spicy. So. Lexa? Care to offer a pizza suggestion that isn’t laced with assholery?”

“No, I don’t care... I’ll eat anything.”

“I bet you do, too.” Clarke quipped, fire in her eyes.

“Wow, okay... y’all are a fucking bundle of fun, but how about we let Anya order the pizzas in peace and the three of us will go sit quietly on the couch and find something to watch, mmkay?” Raven suggested.

“Fine,” they both grumbled and trudged out to the living room behind Raven like fucking children and there was no way Lexa was going to survive an entire month with that infuriating pain-in-the-ass woman who was two steps ahead of Lexa and swaying her hips just so. And those jeans were practically painted on and... Dammit. Shit. _No_.

“Okay, so Lexa you sit on this side of me,” Raven patted to the spot on the couch to her left, “and Clarkey, you can sit right here.” She repeated the motion, on her right that time. “And you are going to sit here in silence, like adults who have been put into time out by Momma Raven.”

“Rae-”

“Mm, no talking Clarke. I can’t trust the words that might come out of your mouth.”

“I-”

“Nope. Zip it, babe.”

Clarke let out an exasperated huff and fell back into the couch dramatically. Lexa crossed her arms in response and let out a huff of her own - she could be dramatic, too.

When the pizza arrived, they all gathered around the little round table in Anya’s dining room and she forced Lexa to sit across from Clarke just to put as much space between them as possible, but she hadn’t thought it through, because they just shot daggers at each other the entire time. Clarke actually stuck her tongue out at Lexa once when neither Raven nor Anya were looking, and Lexa wanted to be mad, wanted to retaliate, but Jesus, her stupid brain started playing a fucking re-run of their dalliance and her cheeks burned as she looked down at her slice of pizza, and since she obviously couldn’t trust her own fucking mind, Lexa refused to look up again.

“I’m gonna go to the garage,” Lexa said to nobody in particular, after she had helped clean up and put the leftover pizza away.

Clarke glanced at her, and there it was again, like a little flash of hurt crossed her eyes. And God, Lexa wished she hadn’t seen it, because the first time, it had been easy enough to write off - she just assumed she was seeing things, or that her judgement was just shit after Costia. And once or twice, maybe that had been true, but... it had happened more than once or twice... and why? Lexa tried really hard to fall asleep that night, but flashes of blonde and blue plagued her and if the entire month was going to be like that, she’d be lucky to survive it.

______

Thank God for work because Lexa got out of her house and away from everyone and everything at home and every single minute that she spent away was a minute of pure bliss. Even better, Clarke was usually gone for the night, for work, when Lexa returned so she could sprawl out on the couch in peace. For an hour, at least, before Anya got home, and Raven was usually back soon after. But all in all, the first week had been fine, pizza incident aside, and Lexa thought that maybe it would be okay.

Until Saturday. Saturday sucked. Clarke made pancakes for breakfast, enough for everybody, even Lexa, and they were so damn delicious, Lexa let an ‘mmm’ escape and the look on Clarke’s face when she did was... something else entirely, and when her eyebrow kind of quirked, Lexa felt something stir down low and that was completely unwelcome so Lexa kept super quiet after that. But breakfast wasn’t the sucky part. And neither was lunch. The day really took a dive after dinner.

One of Octavia’s regular clients, Nyko, had recently opened a new brewery, BattleAxe, with a full bar and twenty local brews on tap, a gourmet burger menu that he promised was to die for, and an axe throwing field out back, and he invited her to come check it out, half off everything if she brought some friends, helped spread the word, so to speak. And really, what could go wrong when you combined alcohol and axe throwing with Clarke and Lexa?

Dinner itself was fine. Better than fine. The burgers were phenomenal and there was very little talk as the group sunk their teeth into juicy, mouth-watering burgers and fries that were loaded with cheese and bacon. And the beer, God, even the beer was better than Lexa had expected. She drank beer aplenty, she could handle it, but it wasn’t like beer tasted _good_ , necessarily. But the Polis Pale Ale was something else, something to savor and enjoy until the very last drop.

Nyko came out of the kitchen and checked on everybody, explained the axe throwing set-up and went over a couple of quick safety rules before Harper and Monty jumped up and followed him over, excited to try their hands at it.

Lexa stayed at the table with Anya for awhile, content to sip her beer and watch the hilarity from afar. Harper threw an axe right into the ground and Monty managed to hit the target with the handle, but neither of them could sink the blade into the wooden target to save their lives. And everything was going really well because Clarke was at least ten feet away from Lexa and they were ignoring one another will relative ease.

Until _he_ came in - the guy with broad shoulders and dark hair and a friendly smile that set Lexa’s teeth on edge. Of course, Clarke ran over to him and he pulled her into a long, warm embrace and stayed beside her, chatting animatedly about Lexa didn’t know what, but she saw him glance at her one too many times and _fuck it_ , she chugged the rest of her beer and poured herself another, chugged that one, too and slammed it onto the table when he looked again, and started walking over to her.

She narrowed her eyes at him as he drew closer, but he didn’t back down or shy away and damn, she must be losing her touch.

“Bell, hey,” Raven greeted him cheerily. “I’m glad you could finally make it out! Oh, this is Lexa, Anya’s sister.” She pointed, and he cocked his head to the side and studied her for a moment.

“So,” he said to her, “you’re the infamous Lexa.” There was something in his tone Lexa didn’t like.

“Yeah, what of it?” she spat back, her tone issuing a challenge that he seemed to back down from.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he started. “You’re the one who keeps kicking O’s ass in the ring, right?”

“I am,” her reply was short, much like her temper had become.

“Care to make a friendly wager then? You and Anya against me and O?”

“Ha, are you sure? You don’t stand a chance.”

“I’m sure,” he said as he gritted his teeth.

Clarke stood behind him, hand on his back, watching the entire thing go down. She shot Lexa a look, a challenge of her own perhaps, and it was all the motivation Lexa needed to beat that guy’s ass, even it was just meant to be a friendly competition.

“Anya,” she snapped her fingers to get her sister’s attention, something Anya did not seem to appreciate, and then said, “grab an axe. This guy wants to get slaughtered, apparently.”

“Yes!” Raven fist-pumped the air, completely unaware of the shift in the atmosphere of the bar. She slapped Anya on her ass and shouted to the group, “There’s about to be a throw down, y’all! Back away, this is gonna get good!”

Clarke was glaring at Lexa, she could feel it, but Harper had started to clap and Jasper was trying to take bets before they began, though Lexa didn’t bother to notice anything more happening around her. Her sole focus was on Bellamy and what he meant to Clarke. Clarke who was massaging his shoulders and whispering something into his ear. Gross.

Octavia grabbed some axes and started to pass them out, took her place behind the white line in the lane next to Anya, and waited for someone to start. Lexa stepped up, almost pushing Anya out of the way as she did, and, with her eyes glued to Clarke who stood several feet away, glaring at her, threw the axe at the target. She didn’t have to turn around to know she hit the bullseye - Monty let out a wolf whistle and she heard Raven whisper, “Holy shit!” Clarke’s eyes had gone wide as she tore her gaze from Lexa and looked at the axe, dead center and sunken neatly into the wood carved target.

If it scared Bellamy, he didn’t let on. Octavia hit pretty damn close to the bullseye, which seemed to surprise her, and Anya nailed it dead center, but nobody was surprised by that. They had each thrown three axes, except Bellamy who was holding the axe and concentrating before his final throw, like he had a point to make, something to say, and the axe could do it for him.

Lexa looked at Clarke, watched her watch him, and her blood started to boil and everything flooded back - the connection she had felt, the fear and panic, and then... the shock and devastation that tore through her when she saw them...

He didn’t even come close to the target.

“I’m sorry, Princess.” He shook his head in defeat.

“It’s fine, Bell. I appreciate you fighting for my honor just the same.” And Clarke smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder and that was it-

Lexa stepped into Clarke’s space, practically growled at her, “Is that what he is to you then, more than just a warm body, he’s your knight in shining armor, too? Can’t fight your own battles, _princess_?”

There was a new kind of fire in Clarke’s eyes and _fuck_ she had taken the axe from him and was holding it over her shoulder like she was ready to cut Lexa’s head clear off. Lexa stepped back and got into position, she could hold her own if Clarke was going to come at her, but she had to be ready-

“What stance is that, Lexa? You gonna fucking judo chop me? Hmm? Better be careful - the last time you did that, you went home to an empty house, or don’t you remember?”

Lexa was fighting fire with fire and that burned, the memory, the heartbreak, all of it flooded back into the forefront of Lexa’s mind and she should have walked away, should have taken the high road, but she had had two too many beers and wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

“Fuck you, Clarke.”

“Haven’t you already done that?”

“Right, but then, who hasn’t?”

“ _Excuse me_?” Clarke spat at Lexa. “What the _fuck_ does that mean?”

“Oh please. I’ve got eyes, Clarke. Everybody wants you, and you don’t deny them, do you? Everybody wants a piece of the _princess_ \- except, of course, Finn.”

“Yeah, and apparently you.”

 _What_? Clarke’s eyes were dark, a dangerous storm brewing in them, and just as the tears started to fall, she dropped the axe and shoved Lexa hard in the shoulder and then tore off out of the bar.

Everybody was staring at Lexa again, but this time, for some reason, it felt like it _was_ her fault - that the hurt she had seen in Clarke’s eyes was real, but...

Bellamy was in her space almost immediately. Lexa’s hands were balled into tight fists and she was ready but Octavia jumped between them.

“Hey, look I like you, Lexa, but if you kill my brother, we aren’t gonna be cool anymore,” she said, trying to diffuse the tension between them. She gave him a gentle shove back, forced him out of Lexa’s face, eyes trained on him. “I know you care about Clarke, Bell, but whatever this is, whatever is going on between them, they have to work it out, okay? Just, go sit down.”

Wait, what? He’s her... brother... so he was dating Echo... but then... that night...

Nothing made sense to Lexa, her mind was racing, she felt dizzy and confused and heartbroken all over again and... fuck, she tore off after Clarke. Had she been wrong this whole time? What she had seen, that night...she needed answers, needed to know what the hell was really going on, what Clarke meant - but there was an Uber pulling up twenty yards away so she ran, as well as she could with the weight of the alcohol in her system, she had to stop Clarke, she had to-

“Clarke! Wait-”

“No, Lexa. No. Just,” she sniffed hard and wiped her eyes with her arm, “go back inside. Just... go.” Clarke pulled the door shut behind her and urged the driver on.

As the car pulled away, Lexa was left standing there in the parking lot, alone and confused, her heart beat rapid and menacing. And when Lexa looked up at the sky, it was dark and cloudy - not a single star, it seemed, was shining above her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s chapter two for those of you who are sticking with this story - hopefully this will shed some light on where Clarke’s head is at.

Clarke sobbed in the backseat of the Uber, apologized to a guy with sympathetic eyes and a kind smile, who told her it was totally fine, that she needed to let it all out, and he’d get her home safely.

Home. Fuck. She wasn’t going home, she was going back to Anya’s and there was no way she could stay there, not now, not after everything... Dammit, why Bellamy? Of all the people she could have confided in that night... why did it have to be him? Because he was there, because when she drunk stumbled over her own two feet, it was his arms she had landed in, and because he was her big brother, even if he wasn’t technically.

But while most of the time, he was good-natured and solid, other times he was volatile and overbearing... and he was always fiercely loyal. And it didn’t matter that his sister liked Lexa, or that she had integrated into the group without issue, because he knew more than any of them did. He knew what Lexa had done to Clarke, and that was enough for him to know Lexa was bad news. And she shouldn’t have let him issue that challenge, but fuck... a part of her thought maybe it would help, if he had been able to beat her... then maybe she wasn’t infallible, maybe Lexa could hurt, too.

But he couldn’t, because she was perfect in every way, except the part of her that didn’t like Clarke back, of course. And then all Clarke saw was fury in those green eyes she’d been painting for months and then they had words, words she couldn’t take back, and Clarke couldn’t hold it in anymore, couldn’t hide behind her sarcasm and sharp tongue.

Her eyes were burning by the time they pulled into Anya’s driveway.

“Can you hold tight?” She sniffed. “I’m not staying here tonight.”

“Sure thing,” he replied softly, gave her a reassuring nod, and Clarke was thankful for it.

Maybe this is why she had never really unpacked - she knew it wasn’t going to work. She grabbed all of her dirty clothes off the floor and stuffed them into her suitcase, grabbed the other two and her backpack, and trudged out of the house awkwardly but in a hurry.

“I’ve got you,” he called out as he jumped out of the car and grabbed her luggage. He loaded everything into the backseat and asked if she wanted to sit up front with him since there wasn’t much room back there anymore.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Bryan, by the way. So, where we headed to next?”

“My mom’s house,” she sighed. She gave him the address and tried to prepare herself for the speech she was bound to get from her mother for showing up so late, and still drunk.

“Bad break-up?”

“What?” Clarke really wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but they had about twenty minutes to kill so, she indulged him. He had been nothing but nice to her, after all. “No, we aren’t... I mean we hooked up once, and... I thought it meant more than she did.”

“Oh, ouch. I’m sorry.” He pulled back a little and winced, like he had felt the sting, too.

And it did sting, it really fucking hurt, because no matter how many times Clarke replayed that night in her head, she knew that Lexa had felt something, too, but... maybe Finn had just really fucked her up. Maybe she saw something because she _wanted_ to, and not because there was ever anything there. Obviously, since Lexa definitely didn’t show it, if she did feel something.

She unlocked and opened the front door of her mother’s two story colonial, shut it quietly behind her and entered the alarm code into the panel on the far wall. She left most of her luggage in the foyer, opting to take the smallest one upstairs to her old bedroom, and took each step as quietly as she could, hoping not to wake her mother.

It didn’t work. As soon as she had reached the top of the stairs, Marcus was there, a baseball bat over his shoulder just in case.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s me, it’s Clarke!” She threw her hands up in surrender and held her breath.

Her mother came running out of their bedroom at the sound of Clarke’s voice.

“Clarke? Honey, what are you-”

As soon as Clarke saw her mother, her eyes flooded again and she couldn’t stop the sobs as she lunged forward into her mother’s tight embrace.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Abby whispered as she rubbed gentle circles on her daughter’s back. She motioned Marcus away with the tilt of her chin and squeezed her daughter tighter.

“I just...” Her words were muffled by Abby’s shoulder, but she managed to say, “Can I stay here for awhile?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course you can. But, Clarke, is everything okay?”

“No,” she hiccuped. “But I just want to go to sleep right now, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, okay, come on.” Abby grabbed her suitcase and followed her into the bedroom that still had trophies on the wall and pictures from high school tucked into the edges of her mirror.

If Clarke could have cried herself to sleep, she would have - it would have been better than tossing and turning with images of Lexa haunting her every time she closed her eyes. Lexa’s lips, hot and blistering against hers. Lexa’s eyes when she finally pushed Clarke’s dress off, Jesus, nobody had ever been that entranced by her tits before. Lexa’s arms wrapped around her body as they fell to the bed, hot skin pressed against her, _abs_ and that jawline. Dark green eyes staring at her body, like it was a temple and Lexa was praying to the gods. Lexa’s tongue, her fingers, the way she mapped Clarke’s body, touched her and made her _feel_ , and that last kiss... Jesus, that wasn’t just a kiss -

Clarke sat up, confused and gasping for air. Her sheets were drenched, and her head was sort of spinning and pounding at the same time and she had no idea why she was in her childhood bedroom, or why she’d been dreaming about... Oh. Fuck, it all came back to her in a flash. Clarke groaned and reached for her cell phone - twelve percent, excellent.

She had twenty-three texts from Raven, along with texts from Harper, Octavia, and Bellamy, and nine missed calls. Christ. She fired off one text to Raven so she’d know Clarke was alive, and then plugged her phone in and left it on her nightstand.

Abby was in the kitchen when Clarke walked in and there was a full plate of pancakes on the counter, thank God. She slid a mug of coffee across the counter to Clarke and smiled warmly at her. Marcus was at the table reading the paper, but he glanced up and smiled at Clarke when she sat down.

“So,” Abby started as she slid into a chair next to her husband and passed the syrup to Clarke. “Did you and Raven have a fight?”

“What?”

“Last night, you asked if you could stay awhile, which is obviously fine, but you were also really upset, so... is everything okay between you two?”

“Oh, yeah. Me and Raven? Always. It’s Lexa-”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

“She’s the one... um, she’s Anya’s sister, from Chicago.”

“Oh,” Abby nodded. She didn’t know the whole story, but she knew that her daughter had called her late one night and, even though she only caught every other word through the sobs and slurs of her drunken only child, she got the gist - Lexa, heart, and broken. “From the party, I remember. I thought you’d been keeping some distance from her-”

“There’s mold in our apartment and we had to move out. It’s temporary, but Anya has a house and she said we could stay with her, and Lexa stays over the garage so I figured... but then we all went out on Saturday and,” she gulped and tried to keep the tears at bay, “and I said things, and she said things, and... fuck, mom, it hurts so bad.”

Dammit. Clarke was crying into her plate of pancakes. Abby scooted her chair closer and squeezed Clarke’s shoulder.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Stay as long as you need.”

Clarke nodded and buried her face into her hands, elbows propped up on the table. She was really just tired. Tired of feeling like an idiot, tired of watching Lexa invade her life - so close but still out of reach - but mostly just tired of the pain.

And it should have hurt like this when she caught Finn... should have felt more like this, but it didn’t. And that didn’t make any sense because she’d been with Finn for a lot longer than one fucking night, but for whatever reason, when Clarke’s heart ached and clenched in her chest, it was Lexa. Like it had always been Lexa. _Fuck_.

After breakfast and a long, hot shower, Clarke retrieved her cell phone and read through all of the messages. Lexa looked like she had been crying. Lexa apologized and left. Raven tried to get answers from Bellamy but he wouldn’t talk. Bellamy apologized for instigating the fight. Also, Nyko was re-thinking his alocohol-mixed-with-sharp-axes brewery concept. Octavia asked Clarke to tell them what the fuck was going on. Harper asked if she was okay. Raven wanted to know where Clarke was - she asked that a lot. She asked if Clarke was dead a couple of times, too.

She wasn’t, even if she felt dead inside. She fired off a couple of quick replies to everybody, let them all know she was sorry and she was okay, before she called Raven to let her know that she was just going to stay at her mom’s while their apartment was under construction.

“ _Clarke, I really wish you would talk to me... you know? Maybe, if I knew, I could help-”_

“There isn’t anything to _help_ with, Rae. Lexa and I, we’re just... not meant to be,” she sighed and then caught herself, “friends. We’re not meant to be friends.”

“ _Look, I... I know Lexa’s hard to read, but... well, not for Anya. She said... Lexa’s hurting, too, Clarke, for whatever that’s worth.”_

“It isn’t worth anything, Raven. I just need some time, okay?”

“ _Okay... well, I love you and I’m here if you do want to talk, okay?_ ”

“I love you, too.”

Of course Lexa was hurting. Clarke said something really fucked up about Costia. She remembered that. Not the words so much as the flash of pain in Lexa’s eyes before... well, the sooner Clarke could forget that whole night, the better.

She spent the rest of the day drawing in old sketchbooks she found in the closet with Supernatural on the TV in the background - maybe she couldn’t get Lexa out of her mind, but she could distract herself with Sam and Dean Winchester and dammit, she had drawn Lexa’s jawline again. Four pages filled so far with those sharp lines, the column of her neck, the outline of her eyes, and it was really frustrating, but also really accurate, and Clarke was pretty impressed with herself - annoyed, but also impressed.

Monday, Clarke cooked dinner for her mother and Marcus. She knew he’d be at the hospital late, but she fixed a plate for him so he could heat it up when he did get there. It was nice to have some time alone with her mother, even if she did smother Clarke a little bit. And aside from one super awkward statement about the importance of using protection, (even with girls, Clarke), dinner was enjoyable.

“You are being safe, though, aren’t you?” Abby asked again as the loaded the dishwasher.

“Mom! Sometimes I really hate that you’re an OB/GYN. Like, why couldn’t you have been a surgeon or something?”

“Well, I seriously considered surgery, you know that. You didn’t answer my question.”

“The only thing I didn’t protect was my heart, mom.”

_____

The only major drawback to staying at her mom’s house was the commute. Her drive to work was normally about fifteen minutes, but from Abby’s, with traffic, it took closer to forty-five. It was raining and overcast, and she was late.

“Murphy, I’m so sorry!”

“You’re late, Clarke.”

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m staying at my mom’s and it’s raining and people drive like idiots when the roads are wet, and, ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Shit, it’s fine. Don’t freak out about it, Jesus.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I know. Have a good shift.” He saluted and headed for the door.

And for the most part, her shift was pretty good. It wasn’t too busy, but it wasn’t so slow that she didn’t make decent tips. She brought a sketchbook along and covered a few more pages with Lexa’s stupid face, _ugh_ , before Wells showed up and kept her company. He was an investment banker with kind eyes and a boring job, but he made Clarke laugh and he tipped well. Maybe that was because Clarke was a great bartender, or maybe he was interested in her for other reasons, but he wasn’t pushy and she wasn’t interested and that was that.

“So, who’s the girl?”

“What girl?”

“The one you’ve been drawing.” He pointed to her sketchbook, open on the counter behind her. Oops.

“Oh, she’s... nobody important.”

“Actually, I think I’ve seen her in here before, with your friends. Those eyes, I remember them. Am I right?”

“Uh, ha,” she laughed and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, picking the sketchbook up so he could thumb through it. “Yeah, she has.”

“You’re a good artist, Clarke. Really good.”

“Thanks, Wells. That’s kind of you, but-”

“But what? You’re a bartender, not an artist? Please, Clarke. I recognized her immediately, and you don’t even have her full face on that page. You’re good.”

“Thanks.” She blushed at the compliment. It wasn’t something she usually did, let people see her work before it was finished, and those were just doodles, just something her hands did while her brain tried to reconcile everything that happened since... well, since she met Lexa.

And Lexa was the last person she expected to see walking through the front door, but there she was. Her hair was drenched and her jacket was soggy, boots sloshing on the floor with each step, and Clarke watched her carefully... her friends weren’t coming out tonight, not with the weather raging outside, so why was Lexa there?

She took two tentative steps closer, eyes on Clarke as she did, like she wasn’t sure she could come closer, and she shouldn’t. Clarke was not ready for this confrontation. Wells stared back and forth between them, ready to make a move if Clarke needed him, and it was sweet because he didn’t need to defend her, but he was willing to and that told Clarke a lot about him, about his character. Maybe she should consider going out with him sometime... later, once her heart had stopped beating wildly at the sight of Lexa.

“Hi,” she said as she took one final step toward the bar. “I’m not here to start anything. I just... I don’t have your number, I’m not asking for it, I don’t- that’s not the point, um... I just came to apologize.”

“So apologize,” Clarke said, more bite in her tone than she had hoped to muster. Her knees might have gone weak, but at least her voice was strong.

Lexa looked taken aback. She looked like shit, actually. Well, as shitty as Lexa Woods could look considering she was really fucking beautiful, but whatever. Her eyes looked heavy and red like she’d been crying, which Clarke thought was odd because Lexa didn’t usually have emotions. But Raven did say she’d been upset... but _that_ upset? Nah.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, Clarke.”

“For what? For fucking me and freaking the fuck out immediately afterward? For befriending all of my friends so I’d be forced to see you every fucking time they all hang out? For calling me impulsive and immature-”

“You called me an ice queen! And-”

“I’ve never seen anyone get out of bed that fucking quickly. But that isn’t really the point. You were here to apologize. I’m just wondering what, specifically, you’re apologizing for.”

“I-”

“Because there’s also the pizza comment, the one about sausage, that I still don’t even understand, honestly, because the last time I checked, you didn’t have a sausage and since you’re the only person I’ve been with in _months_ , it just doesn’t add up... You should leave.”

“Clar-”

“Now.”

Fuck, that felt good. It probably wasn’t, if the low whistle Wells let out when Lexa closed the door behind her was anything to go by, but it felt really good to tell her off. The only thing was... for a minute there, Lexa really did look _really_ hurt. And that part didn’t feel good at all.

“Wow,” Wells said. He took a long sip from his glass before adding, “Nobody important, eh?”

“Uh... ” Clarke cleared her throat and averted her eyes. That was super unprofessional. Fuck. She should’ve just said ‘okay Lexa’ and let her say her piece and maybe they could have just moved past the bullshit and been okay... but it wasn’t okay, and Clarke wasn’t ready. “I’m really sorry about that-”

“No, don’t apologize on my account. It kind of sounded like she had it coming. You know, I’ve got to head out but before I go, I know you’ve got some shit to sort through, but when you do, maybe we could get dinner.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll see you next week, I’m sure. Have a good night, Clarke.”

“I’ll... Thanks. You too, Wells.”

The rest of the night was far less eventful. The rain let up a little bit before closing time, so her drive home was a lot better than the drive in had been. Until Raven called.

“What?”

“ _Shit, I’m just checking in with you.”_

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were calling about Lexa.”

“ _What about her?”_

“She... nothing, never mind.”

“ _I haven’t seen her all day, actually. But no, I was calling about you, Clarke. How are you?_ ”

“I’m okay... I’m fine, Rae.”

The next part was muffled by Raven’s hand, but Clarke could still hear it. _“Oh, hey Lexa, are you okay? ... Fuck, okay.”_ And she was back. “ _Hey, sorry. Lexa’s back. She looks like a drowned fucking rat with long hair. Said she went for a walk. In a fucking storm, Clarke. Listen, I know you don’t care, but whatever the fuck is up with y’all, I think she’s cracking.”_

“She’s... She came by, okay? She came to apologize and I... am not ready to forgive her.”

“ _What, wait, forgive her for what? For the main thing that y’all won’t explain to anyone, or for the night when you almost attacked her with an axe because I feel like, and I know you don’t want to hear it, but I feel like you have some culpability in that shitstorm.”_

“I don’t know, Rae... I didn’t give her time to tell me. And don’t- before you start, I’m not proud of it... anymore, but it’s done and I’m just not ready, for any of it, and that’s all you need to know.”

“ _Okay... I’ll give you some space, then, but... you should know - you can come back, okay? I know Mama Griff. You’re gonna be banging your head against the wall sooner or later and when that day comes, Anya said you’re more than welcome to come back. And she made Lexa promise that, if you do, she’ll keep her distance. It’s just temporary, you know?”_

“Thanks, Rae. I’m okay, though.”

“ _Alright, well... Just take care of yourself, okay?”_

“You too, babe.”

_____

Friday and Saturday, The Ark was slammed and Clarke both loved and hated it at the same time. She loved that she was too busy to think about Lexa for two entire nights, but hated it because too many bros in one square foot meant she had to endure their gross comments and juvenile attempts at flirting, and bitchy girls who didn’t appreciate the beautiful blonde behind the bar stealing their attention - attention she definitely wasn’t asking for. But, the money she took home was worth the way she felt when she finally got back to her mother’s house.

Clarke didn’t get up before noon on Sunday. She needed to get some laundry done, so she pulled on an old AC/DC t-shirt that used to belong to her father and a pair of semi-clean sweats before she dumped her luggage out and separated the dirty clothes from the floor at Anya’s from the clothes she hadn’t actually worn yet. It wasn’t until she grabbed the pile of dirty clothes from the floor that she saw it - a photograph that didn’t belong to her had fallen from the clothes in her arms.

Curious, Clarke set the pile on her bed and picked up the picture. It was Lexa, younger and wearing a military outfit, like for a graduation or special ceremony, and she was... smiling. A huge grin, wide and hopeful, spread ear to ear, and it was... the most beautiful fucking thing Clarke had ever seen. Fuck, she didn’t even know Lexa knew how to smile like that... not that she deserved to see that kind of smile on Lexa, not with the way... well, she hadn’t really ever been given the chance - not that she’d given Lexa a reason to smile, either. Shit.

Clarke tucked it into her sketchbook, something to go back to, before she grabbed her pile of clothes again and trudged downstairs. Maybe there was more to Lexa, maybe... maybe she had been unfair to expect so much so soon... They had both gotten out of relationships, after all and maybe...

“Clarke, honey, come watch the news!” Abby hurried her over to the couch, Clarke’s clothes left abandoned on the floor near the washing machine.

“ _Last week, flights from three major cities across the globe brought in passengers who had not been tested properly before being allowed to enter the country, at least twelve of whom are positive for the Lagervirus. We are, obviously, doing our best to investigate these individuals, track their movements, and determine any and every person they may have had contact with. At this time, we are temporarily shutting down those three affected airports and quarantining all staff.We do, of course, expect to contain the spread and there is no cause for concern at this time.”_

_“That was Major General Byrne speaking on behalf of the Polis National Guard, the top military aide to President Pike. This is breaking news, obviously, and we will continue to bring you coverage as this develops. In other news, top research scientists from Ton DC, the largest disease research lab in the country, warns the President has not taken the Lagervirus seriously and that spread is imminent, containment considered impossible as precautions were ignored from the very start of the spread in Asia. The President has rebuked Ton DC experts on several occasions, citing fake news. For continued coverage, stayed tuned to Channel Four Eyewitness News.”_

“Fuck,” Clarke breathed out. It was here. “What... what does that mean?”

“I’m so sorry, Clarke... but it means you have to go back to Anya’s. Marcus, he’s the Chief of Medicine. He’s going to be right in the middle of this as it spreads. And it will spread, Clarke. The President, he doesn’t understand, but it’s... people are dying, Clarke, and I can’t... You can’t be here. I won’t put you at risk, Clarke. I just can’t...” _Lose you,_ _too_ was left unsaid, but Clarke understood.

“Can I... can I finish up my laundry and everything, at least?”

“Yes, of course. When you’re done, I’ll drive you, okay?”

“Are you sure? I can call-”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay. Thanks Mom.” Clarke reached across the space between them on the couch and hugged her mom, really hugged her, just in case. It wasn’t like she was worried exactly, but she wasn’t really sure what any of it meant, hadn’t been paying much attention to it before... except that she was calling it the beer virus and joking that it would hurt her business...

**Raven** : hey any chance u saw the news?

**Clarke** : yeah and it gets worse...

since Marcus works in the er i have to come back

mom says its safer that way

**Raven** : no that’s cool i get it

ur welcome back I told u that

**Clarke** : i know but... ugh

mom is gonna bring me

be there like 5 ish

**Raven** : cool cool

will let them kno

Clarke’s only saving grace was that their apartment was supposed to be ready for them to move back into the following week (best case - but she was being optimistic), so Clarke didn’t have to survive for long. And she made a promise with herself to behave. Lexa had tried to apologize, after all, and maybe it was time to let it go... Well, she wasn’t over it, but she could tone it down... a little bit. For a week. Just one week.

_______

Abby insisted on helping Clarke with her luggage. Anya welcomed them both in, asked Abby to stay for dinner which she politely declined - she just wanted to make sure Clarke got settled and thank Anya for her hospitality. Pfft. She was trying to get a sneak peek at Lexa. And it worked. After they had taken Clarke’s bags upstairs and Abby was all set to head out, hugs and kisses and well wishes given, Lexa walked in through the back door with a plate of ribs fresh from the grill. And they smelled fucking heavenly.

Clarke ushered her mother out the front door before she could embarrass Clarke and say something stupid, or do something stupid, like keep gawking at the girl, Good Lord.

“Mom,” she hissed, “stop staring!”

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. Damn - I’m sorry, honey. Just... stay strong.”

“Yeah, well it helps that she’s awful, so. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride, Mom. I love you. Drive safe back.”

She waved until Abby’s car was safely out of sight before going back inside. Fuck, it really did smell good, or maybe she was just really hungry, but she took several uncertain steps toward the kitchen...

“Clarke, come on! Lexa made ribs!” Raven called to her, poked her head around the corner and beckoned Clarke forward with a curl of pointer finger and a pointed look.

“I might just-”

“No, Clarke.” Raven stepped toward her and spoke softly. “We were going to have leftovers tonight and I mentioned you were coming back and... now we’re having ribs. Can you just... try, please? I still don’t know about, whatever the hell... but, she’s trying. So, please, will you just come eat with us? There’s mac and cheese and potato salad, too. And wine.”

“Yeah, alright... wait.” She reached for Raven’s hand, stalling her for a second. “She made ribs... for me?”

“I mean, there’s a big bowl of frozen pasta still de-thawing in the fridge if you don’t believe me,” she said and shrugged. “But yes, she did.”

And thank fucking God she did because they were some of the best ribs Clarke had ever eaten. Anya had made enough mac and cheese to feed a small army, but it still didn’t last long, and even though Clarke felt uneasy sitting across from Lexa, she really enjoyed dinner. The conversation was light and easy, though Lexa didn’t say much. By the time they’d finished eating, Clarke’s fingers were covered in sauce, but so were everybody else’s and when Lexa sucked her fingers clean, Clarke scolded herself for the thoughts that flooded her mind - thoughts of her fingers covered in something else, something that tasted like Clarke, after they’d been buried deep inside of-

“That was really good,” Clarke said as she stood up to clear her plate, cheeks burning and heat pooling between her legs. “I’ll clean up,” she said as she rushed into the kitchen to escape the sight of Lexa and the stupidly inappropriate things swirling through her mind.

“I’ll help,” Raven offered and pushed off of the table, gathering the rest of their plates.

When Raven walked into the kitchen, Clarke was standing at the sink with a faraway look in her eyes. The water was running, but she wasn’t moving, so Raven bumped her with a shoulder to get Clarke to scoot over a bit.

“You okay?” she asked as she put the plates in the sink and grabbed the sponge to start washing.

“I... yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for helping.”

Lexa brought the rest of the dishes into the kitchen and got busy wrapping up leftovers while Raven washed and Clarke rinsed. Clarke asked Raven how the week had been and halfway through recalling something asinine her boss had said about a project she was working on that he just couldn’t wrap his tiny brain around, she remember that their landlord had called.

“Oh, shit, I forgot to tell you - Emerson called and they found more mold than they expected, so it’ll be about four more weeks before we can move back in. He did say we might want to consider getting our things and putting them in storage. I guess they might do some demo work. Nathan texted me, too, and they had to knock down the wall to his bathroom so he moved most of his stuff out already.”

“Shit, dude. I was really banking on going back as soon as possible... What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“I can help you guys move, if you need-” Lexa volunteered before she thought better of it, apparently, because when her eyes met Clarke’s, she stopped talking.

“Really?” Raven asked, seriously considering taking her up on the offer.

“Well, yeah... I mean I’ve got a truck, and Lincoln does, too, so... We could help move the big stuff into storage for you, if you needed it.” She paused, shy and unsure of herself. “Just, um, let me know.”

“Clarke, I know you want to get back in there, but... if they start knocking down walls and shit, who knows what kind of damage-”

“No, I know... I get it, it’s a good idea. I just...” Clarke looked away at nothing in particular. She just really didn’t want to stay with Lexa any longer than necessary.

Because sure, Lexa seemed to be trying, had already tried to apologize once, even if Clarke hadn’t let her... but Lexa wasn’t really the problem anymore. Clarke was. She couldn’t trust that she’d be stubborn enough to hold out for long, because even though Lexa didn’t feel anything that night, and even though Clarke had done her best to push the woman away, her stupid heart still beat faster when Lexa was close by.

Still, if they did move everything out, it would give her an opportunity to grab her easel and canvases. She had been particularly inspired as of late - before the mold situation took her away from her supplies, she’d completed five paintings that were really good, in her opinion, even if they were filled with more greens than she’d ever used before.

“Do you think Anya would mind if I brought my paint supplies over? If we’re going to be stuck here, it might-”

“You can set up in the garage, Clarke,” Anya replied from the dining room and damn, she must have some kind of super-power hearing because Clarke hadn’t been that loud. “We don’t use it for cars anymore, not since Lexa moved back. We got it sealed and it’s climate controlled. As long as you don’t mind painting surrounded by a bunch of gym equipment.”

“Gym equipment?” Clarke did not go to gyms.

“Yeah,” Lexa replied shyly. “There’s a treadmill, a rack of free weights and a mat and a couple of different Bowflex machines... Um, you guys can use any of it, if you want to.”

“Ha!” Raven barked out a laugh. “Good one, Lexa! That’s hilarious.”

“What was funny?” Lexa looked completely perplexed and out of place.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just - I’m picturing Clarke on the treadmill,” she laughed again.

“You’re such an asshole.” Clarke hit Raven on the arm. “I’m not a fan of physical exertion... in the form of running, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Lexa looked away. “I just, with your body, I assumed, uh-” Lexa’s cheeks burned red and the tips of her tiny ears turned pink and she looked around the room for an escape from the conversation, or maybe for a way to remove her foot out of her mouth.

“Nope,” Clarke replied quickly, her cheeks also burning. “So, I’m gonna go... find a storage unit. For, so we can, um, move our stuff. Yep. Alright, have a good night.” Clarke pushed past Raven and headed upstairs, desperate for as much distance as she could get from that entire line of conversation.

______

Clarke found a storage unit about ten minutes away from their apartment and it was big enough for all of their furniture and then some. Raven couldn’t get off of work on Tuesday, but Lincoln and Octavia said they’d help out and Lexa, of course, had also volunteered. While O helped Clarke pack boxes and sort through all of their belongings, Lincoln and Lexa moved furniture.

Clarke tried really hard not to notice the strong, firm grip of Lexa’s hands as she lifted the couch, the way her thighs and calves flexed with every step, how fucking easy it seemed to be for her to carry it, backwards, down the stairs. She tried not to watch the bead of sweat that trailed down the column of Lexa’s neck as she wiped her forehead with the bottom of her shirt, to ignore the flex of her abs as she did, or the way her skin glowed in the afternoon sun.

She tried to pretend she didn’t feel a spark pass through her body when her fingers brushed against Lexa’s as she took a box from Clarke and put it into her truck, the last of the boxes they needed to take to storage, before she said thank you and goodbye to Octavia and Lincoln. She dreaded that part of the day because, after the last drop off at the unit, they had to go back to her apartment for one last load of boxes - the stuff she and Raven agreed they should have at Anya’s, just in case, and they’d be completely alone for the first time since...

“So, um... thanks, for... helping today.”

“Oh, yeah, no... it’s- it wasn’t a problem. Is there anything left? Should we do another quick pass, just in case?”

“Yeah, that... That makes sense.”

They didn’t have a lot of stuff between the two of them, thankfully. Raven didn’t come from much, didn’t have a lot of material possessions, but she had what she needed and that was enough. Octavia had Raven’s stuff packed up before Clarke had sorted through her closet. Octavia also threw all of their boxed food into a laundry basket and gave it to Lexa so they could take it over to Anya’s. She looked slightly concerned by the amount of Cup of Noodles and Kraft Mac and Cheese boxes she saw, but Clarke just shrugged and got back to work packing her books and movies - basically everything that was out in the open and in the potential path of destruction should the walls come down.

Once the easel and canvases had been loaded into the truck, as well as the box of gaming consoles and cables that Raven had requested they bring along, they headed back into the now-empty apartment for one last look as Lexa had suggested.

“What’s... this?” Lexa picked up a canvas that had been resting against the wall in the living room, covered by a sheet that Clarke had draped over it before she left for Anya’s a few weeks ago.

“Oh, um, that’s not finished yet,” she said, taking a step closer to Lexa to retrieve the canvas before Lexa could turn it around and see a familiar shade of green, the shape of her own eyes, cut of her jaw, in the portrait Clarke had painted completely unintentionally one night after a failed attempt at sleep and three glasses of wine.

She wasn’t fast enough. Lexa turned the painting around and studied it, eyes wide in recognition, but Clarke looked away, double checked the room for anything else she might have missed, anything to avoid seeing the look on Lexa’s face... It was bad enough Lexa didn’t like her back, but now she’d know that Clarke... that Clarke was painting her beautiful face, inspired by her in one way or another. And, ugh, there was no way Clarke could handle that. But maybe if she hadn’t been so guarded, Clarke would’ve seen the spark of hope that flashed across Lexa’s face, the way her heart had stopped for a fraction of a second, how hard it had been for her to swallow as she took it in.

“I guess that’s everything,” Clarke said, pulling Lexa’s attention away from the painting so Clarke could grab it.

“Okay.” Lexa nodded and they both walked toward the door.

The ride back to Anya’s was fucking stifling, and Clarke didn’t know why. Well, she knew why, but she wasn’t ready to think about it, wasn’t willing to let herself consider the possibility that Lexa _had_ been affected by that painting, that there was more to everything that had happened between them, that Lexa _could_ feel... But even as Clarke felt her heart flutter with the idea that maybe... she felt it constrict, too, and her brain was shouting ‘stop being stupid, you know she doesn’t like you, you idiot’ and, if life had taught her anything, it was that her brain was usually right.

_______

“Oh hell yeah! You got my gaming stuff, thank you!” Raven fist pumped the air when she got back to Anya’s and saw the box on the floor by the big screen TV. “We are definitely all playing once I get it all hooked up.”

“I’ll probably just let you guys handle that,” Lexa replied. “I’m not very good at video games.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Clarke mumbled. She didn’t think anyone had heard her.

“Why’s that?” Lexa whispered back, a curious kind of glint in her eyes.

Clarke gulped. “I just... you seem like... you’re good at pushing buttons.” That’s not what she meant, not how she meant to say it, didn’t mean to say it at all... but once again, she couldn’t trust her stupid brain, and as soon as Lexa had spoken, she was remembering the way it felt when Lexa’s thumb pressed expertly into her clit, throbbing and needy, while her fingers, Jesus, get a fucking grip Clarke!

“Christ, you just can’t help yourself can you?” Lexa shook her head and walked away, clearly offended, clearly very unaware of the actual meaning behind Clarke’s words.

“Clarke,” Raven hissed. “What the fuck, dude?”

“I, I didn’t mean it like that, that wasn’t... ugh!” She slammed into the couch and threw her arm over her face. Fuck, there was no way she could survive three more weeks in this house.

“What else could it have meant?” Raven looked exasperated and tired of Clarke’s shit.

“Uh... ” Clarke swallowed thickly. Raven saw it. Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch, but she knew, she caught the innuendo, she always did.

“OhmyGod. Oh, oh shit, Clarke! You want her to push _your_ button! You _like_ her!” It was quiet enough, and since Lexa had stalked out of the house, likely headed to the garage, but Clarke didn’t know for certain, Clarke assumed it was safe to reply.

“No. No. Raven - no.”

“Yes, Clarke, yes. You do!”

“I _did_. But... I was wrong.”

“Wrong how?”

“Sometimes, Raven... sometimes your knight in shining armor is really just... more like the tin man, super nice and shiny to look at, but no heart... and that’s it. That’s the whole story.”

Raven’s brow furrowed. “I don’t even know what to do with that weird ass attempt at a metaphor, but-”

“Good. Don’t do anything with it. Just let it go.” Clarke huffed and excused herself. She needed to take a shower, anyway.

“I’m not going to let this go!” Raven shouted after her, snickering.

If Clarke hadn’t been in such a hurry to flee that uncomfortable conversation, she might have noticed Anya standing in the kitchen with a smirk on her face. She might have overheard Anya tell Raven that Lexa was a useless lesbian, but that she definitely had feelings for Clarke, too. She might have heard Raven explain how damn stubborn Clarke was, how far up her own ass Clarke’s head probably was, and how hard it was going to be to remove it but... they had to try, didn’t they? Yeah, Anya agreed, they did.

But Clarke didn’t hear any of it. She was too focused on the way the hot water burned and cleansed her skin, washed away the parts of the day that were Lexa, felt invigorating and intoxicating all at once. And for that moment, at least, it felt like everything would be okay, like maybe she could survive a few more more weeks of Lexa, because it was just _weeks_ and that wasn’t really all that long in the grand scheme of things, was it?

_____

Wells didn’t come by on Wednesday night and Clarke was bummed, but maybe it was for the best. She had enough people in the bar to keep her occupied, anyway, since the weather was nice. The TV in the background was running reports about the Lagervirus, but she didn’t pay it much attention. So far, at least, it wasn’t anywhere near them, and if it was spreading, the President wasn’t talking. But, Clarke had her own sources and they were more reliable than the President had ever been.

She talked to her mother on the phone earlier that day and Abby had apologized for sending Clarke back to Anya’s so soon - she had panicked a bit, but when Marcus had gotten home from his shift, he told her they hadn’t seen any positive cases in the state as of yet and Clarke could have stayed a bit longer. Still, Clarke understood her mother’s concern and she wasn’t upset - they needed to pack up their apartment anyway and things had been going alright so far, so it was okay.

Bellamy came in on Friday night, much to Clarke’s surprise, because as far as she knew, her friends were meeting up at a dance club across town and had invited her to join, if she could get out of there before one.

“Clarke,” he said with that deep tone he used when he wanted to make a point. “I think you should come stay with me and Echo until your apartment is ready. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner, but-”

“And sleep where, Bell? On your couch?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It might not be ideal, but Clarke-”

“Listen, I appreciate your concern, but Anya has a guest bedroom and it’s a hell of a lot more comfortable than your couch. And it’s fine, Bell, I promise.”

“That night, Clarke, I didn’t like the way she looked at you.”

“I’m pretty sure I looked at her the same way,” she reasoned. “We had a fight, we said things, it’s done.”

“Clarke.”

“Bellamy,” she mocked his serious tone.

“Are you sure? Because I remember the party, Clarke, and you... I’ve never seen you that upset, and I’m afraid if you’re living with her, you’ll just... I know you, Clarke. I don’t want you to make that same mistake again.”

“And what mistake is that?” Clarke crossed her arms and waited for him to make a decision. He was going down a dangerous path and he had to know it, had to be able to tell she didn’t appreciate the lecture from her body language, her tone, and he could continue to piss her off, or he could head to the club and she’d pretend it never happened.

“Fine.” He held his hands up in surrender. “But the offer stands, if you change your mind.”

“Have a good time tonight, Bellamy.” She waved bye and he got the hint.

Clarke had no intention of going to the club later that night. And if the glimpses she got of Lexa on Raven’s snap story were anything to go by, Clarke wouldn’t have been able to handle herself, anyway. Lexa in black skinny jeans and combat boots, the red tank top showing off strong shoulders and toned arms, her body all sweaty and moving like... yeah, no. Clarke was not going to that club.

She wasn’t going to sleep, either, apparently... all she could see when she closed her eyes was Lexa dancing in the background of Raven’s last drunken snap of the night, the one that said ‘pleez cum to the clurrbbbbb,’ the one that Clarke ignored because Raven hadn’t spelled that word wrong by accident, and it wasn’t an accident that Lexa was in it, either. And dammit, Clarke should never had told Raven... not that she had actually told Raven anything on purpose... still, now that Raven knew, there was nothing good that could come from it.

At three in the morning, they still weren’t home and Clarke still wasn’t asleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lexa, either. Bellamy’s words stood out - don’t make the same mistake again. But was it a mistake? Yeah, definitely, it was. But the sex had been... mind blowing, fuck... And it didn’t count as making the same mistake if Lexa wasn’t actually in the room with her... right?

Clarke slid her hand down her thigh and fuck, just thinking about Lexa made her _so wet,_ Jesus. She rubbed circles around her clit and thought about Lexa’s tongue, the way she kissed and sucked, how Clarke was throbbing and needy when Lexa’s tongue moved inside of her, and when Clarke pushed her own fingers inside, she imagined they were Lexa’s, felt Lexa’s body pressed into hers, Lexa touching her everywhere, and God she was close. She pulled her fingers out, now soaked from thoughts of Lexa, and when she pressed against her clit that time, rubbed against it, it was Lexa’s body she was riding, Lexa’s abs, her thigh, her fingers - her breath caught in her throat, body taut, as she climaxed, and if Lexa’s name fell from her lips when she hit the peak, fuck... she didn’t even care.

She didn’t hear the front door close, didn’t hear two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs, didn’t give a damn about how she was going to survive two more weeks of Lexa because in that moment, at least, everything felt okay. She hadn’t thought about how hard it would be to face Lexa, knowing what she’d just done, or how easily the anger would come back because Lexa didn’t want her... how harsh the memory would hit... that Lexa fucked her and forgot her... And maybe she’d move past it, but not yet, not soon... it still hurt too bad. But she hadn’t considered any of that and, for the first time in weeks, she slept soundly.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t like Lexa had been obsessing. She certainly hadn’t done three extra laps around the track at AHWC because was lost in thoughts of Clarke. And she hadn’t been off of her game when she sparred with Octavia Wednesday afternoon because her mind was still stuck on that painting she’d found in Clarke’s apartment last week. She barely even remembered that it looked exactly like her face and it was the same color as her eyes and that Clarke had _painted_ her. No, she wasn’t obsessing at all.

And when Clarke didn’t come dancing last Saturday night, Lexa hadn’t been disappointed. She wasn’t bothered when Clarke didn’t join them for dinner on Monday night, or when she didn’t join their movie marathon on Tuesday. Lexa didn’t care one bit that she hadn’t seen Clarke in the three days since because of work.

Lexa also hadn’t changed her shirt twice in the last twenty minutes. And she didn’t feel nervous about the prospect of seeing Clarke later on at The Dropship, even though she overheard Raven tell Anya that Clarke would definitely be there after her shift. Lexa didn’t even notice the queasy kind of feeling that had settled into her stomach, like a permanent damn resident, because she wanted to believe that maybe Clarke liked her but she was also pretty sure Clarke actually hated her and it was confusing and, fuck, Lexa needed to chill out.

She wasn’t usually like this. It didn’t make sense. Lexa was cool and calm and confident. That’s what had attracted Costia to her in the first place. And probably Clarke, too, for that matter. Although, it wasn’t cool or calm or confident of her to catch feels during a casual hook-up, or to freak out because of it, and then make a rash assumption as a result of the jealousy said feels had caused... none of that had been very much like Lexa at all. But maybe that was the problem - maybe Clarke just made her feel upside down and inside out and... fuck, whatever it was, it was driving her crazy.

And on top of everything else, she still hadn’t had a chance to apologize to Clarke for any of it. She tried to, once, but that had been... a dumpster fire would be putting it mildly. Lexa had been halfway to the bar when she ran out of gas, so damn preoccupied with everything she wanted to say, she forgot she was close to Empty, meant to fill up after work, but just... and so she walked the rest of the way in the pouring damn rain only to be insulted and berated and given a big fuck you for her troubles.

But even that didn’t stop her from spending several hours perfecting ribs, from making the sauce from scratch that morning - an old family recipe from her Uncle Gustus (he won barbecue competitions with that sauce), because she heard that Clarke was coming back to stay. And at dinner, she thought she saw something... Clarke looked at her like... but it was gone before she could pinpoint it and Clarke was out of the dining room too fast.

There were footsteps coming up the garage steps and she still hadn’t decided on a shirt, dammit. She heard two knocks followed by the opening and closing of her door.

“Hey,” Anya greeted and walked over to her bed. “You about ready there, Casanova?”

“I, well... not quite, no.” She looked at two more shirts laid on the bed, deciding.

“When did you get so girly, Jesus? Can’t decide what to wear? Not sure what Clarke would like best? Because I can call Raven up here if you want some help-”

“Shut up, Anya.”

“You know, I hear she’s a fan of green...”

“I hate you.”

“You love me, and I’m going to help you because I’m ready to go and I need alcohol after the shit week I’ve had with work. So, move over.” She pushed Lexa out of her way.

When Anya was done with her, she was wearing a turquoise-colored short sleeve button up that Anya said made her eyes really pop - a color that Lexa thought would look better on Clarke, would make Clarke’s eyes pop even brighter - and her faded, ripped skinny jeans. She completed Anya’s look with the black Chuck Taylors that she’d had since high school. She kept her makeup simple, if not a bit heavy on the eyeliner, and let her hair fall in naturally cascading waves.

“Awesome. Wonderful. You look great. Can we go now? Raven just texted that the Uber is here.”

“You’re such a dick.” Lexa shoved her sister’s shoulder and gesticulated wildly at her door for Anya to move. “Go, go. Since in you’re in such a damn hurry.”

“So rude. And after everything I do for you, too.”

The Dropship was packed by the time they got inside. But, even through the sea of sweaty bodies before them, Lexa could spot Harper and Monty making out in a booth near the bar, and about time, too. Lexa pointed Anya and Raven to the booth before she headed off to the bar in search of alcohol, just in case... Bellamy had shown up last weekend and spent a good hour scowling and glaring in her direction, and if she was going to endure that again, she needed something to take the edge off. If it helped to take the edge off the nervous flutter in her belly, well, that was just a bonus.

“Lexa!” Harper jumped out of the booth when she finally walked over, nearly knocked the whiskey out of Lexa’s hand as she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck.

“Did you guys start without us then?” Lexa laughed.

“Might have,” Monty admitted, grinning from ear to ear. “We were celebrating.”

“We’re official!” Harper shouted and everybody clapped and cheered and suddenly, her behavior made sense to Lexa - Harper was a happy drunk, and now she had a reason to be extra happy.

By the time Clarke arrived, everybody was well on the way to drunk, including Lexa who had been caught up in the celebrating and the cheap drinks and the fact that Bellamy wasn’t going to be there. She wasn’t too drunk to notice the navy mini dress Clarke was wearing, the cut just low enough to allow her cleavage to peak out, the way it clung to Clarke’s body and rode up her thigh a little bit when she walked, or they way it made Lexa’s throat go dry despite the desperate gulp of beer she’d just taken.

She considered very seriously fleeing the bar altogether, going home early, but then she found Clarke’s eyes, watched as they trailed down her body, and Jesus, she needed another drink. She watched Clarke dancing from the bar, a good safe distance away, where she could look without the fear she might accidentally reach out and touch... put her hands on Clarke’s hips as she moved them to the beat, pull her body in closer until it was flush against Lexa, slot her thigh between Clarke’s legs so she could grind and move, pepper hot kisses down Clarke’s neck-

“Lexa! Get your ass over here,” Anya shouted and waved for Lexa to join them.

“I’m okay, thanks.” She shook her head. She wasn’t scared, it wasn’t that. She’d seen war, dammit. She was a badass, okay? But still, she gave Anya a firm no so she’d back off.

She didn’t.

Anya walked over and pulled Lexa closer, got behind Lexa and shoved her toward the dance floor, but Lexa dug her heels into the floor, tried to stop her forward momentum. Anya just pushed harder, danced behind her legs and kneed her sister forward and, fuck, Anya had strong thighs because no matter how hard she fought against it, the dance floor was getting closer and closer and so was Clarke, who was dancing with Raven, and, _oh dear God,_ Anya was about to make them a sandwich. _No, no, no._

Lexa tried to turn around, to face her sister so Anya could see the look of pure terror in her eyes (because yeah, she was a little bit scared, but whatever), but Anya shoved her back, smiling and nodding at Raven, who gave Clarke a similar nudge forward and then it happened, _fuck_. Lexa threw her hands up in surrender but it was too late, their bodies collided and her hands landed on Clarke’s perfect chest and she tried to pull away, but Anya and Raven had successfully sandwiched them together, so she just stood there, completely panicked, palms pressed against Clarke’s nipples, Jesus God, she could feel them. Her head was spinning and it was way too hot and she was way too drunk and-

She blacked out.

When Lexa opened her eyes, Anya was holding her up and Raven was laughing hysterically from behind Clarke, Clarke whose blue eyes looked magical and mischievous and, wait, she was laughing, too? What the hell had happened?

“Shit, Clarke,” Raven wheezed. “I mean, I know you’ve got great tits, but I had no idea how powerful they truly were until today.”

“Fuck you, Raven! That has _never_ happened before.” Clarke glared at Raven before she turned back and focused on Lexa as a kind of smirk spread across her lips and she quirked that one eyebrow, and Lexa’s knees felt weak because she hadn’t seen Clarke look at her like that since... oh, yep, her knees were definitely weak. “You okay, Lex?”

“What... happened...?”

“You touched her tits and passed the fuck out, that’s what!” Raven clutched her stomach, wheezing and coughing from laughing so hard.

She could feel Anya’s body shaking from laughter behind her so she clutched Clarke’s outstretched hand and pulled herself up. She wasn’t steady, but she was standing. She searched Clarke’s eyes for any sign of danger, but they were bright and shining, if not a little bit sympathetic, and Lexa sighed heavily at the magnitude of her misfortune.

“I’m really, so sorry, Clarke. Anya was pushing me and I, I, it was an accident, I-”

“Fuck babe, breathe.” Babe? Babe! She had a concussion. Or Clarke did. There was absolutely no reasonable explanation-

“What... did you just, uh...”

“Oh.” Clarke looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry, it just... I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m sorry.” Lexa said it as confidently as she could, given the situation, and with as much force as she could muster because she may not get another chance to stand this close to Clarke and maybe Clarke was drunk, maybe she wouldn’t remember, but Lexa had to say it, just in case. “For everything, Clarke, I’m sorry, and-”

“Shh,” Clarke pressed her finger against Lexa’s lips to stop her rambling and they were both so caught up that neither of them noticed all of their friends had gathered around them and were staring intently at their exchange, as intently as they could with blurred vision, anyway. “We should probably talk, I... there are things I should say, too... but, not... not tonight, okay?”

Lexa just nodded. She understood. It was not the time - but there would be a time, and she didn’t know when, but she knew that it _would_ happen, and that would have to be enough. And she was drunk and embarrassed and she had definitely grabbed Clarke’s tits so... it was time to go home.

______

When Lexa woke up the next morning, and the events of the previous night came rushing back, she groaned and rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, if only so she didn’t have to actually go to the house and face Clarke... or Raven for that matter.

But her stomach was grumbling angrily at her and she needed to eat something. She threw her hair up into a ponytail, pulled on some sweats and an old Army t-shirt, and trudged down the stairs from her garage apartment to the main house in search of food.

There were plates on the counter, one with pancakes and one with bacon, and Clarke was sitting at the dining room table with her own plate of food, head resting in one hand as she ate lazily. Clarke looked up at her, and Lexa could feel her heart beat unsteadily in her chest - Raven and Anya weren’t around, and she hadn’t prepared herself to face Clarke alone.

“Help yourself.” Clarke nodded her head toward the plates of food on the counter.

“Oh, um... okay, thanks.” Lexa pulled a plate out of the cabinet and loaded it up with two pancakes and three strips of bacon and more syrup than was necessary. But after all of the alcohol from the night before, she needed a little sugary pick-me-up. She’d do an extra set when she hit the gym later, no big deal.

“How, um... How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed. Dehydrated. Mostly okay... You?”

“Exhausted. Those two,” she shook her head and sighed, “are loud as fuck. There are just some things you don’t need to know about your roommate... or sister, I guess. But Anya _really_ likes it when-”

“No. Gross. I do not want to know.” They both laughed.

“Honestly, I think I finally fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. I am definitely going to have to get Raven back for that... not like right now, I mean, when our apartment is ready... But, I will get her back, eventually. I think I got like three hours of sleep at most.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke. I can go back, um, if you wanted to crash on the couch or something... leave you be-”

“No, it’s fine. I’m up now. I’ve had a lot of coffee, so... but, um, thanks.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Lexa looked down at her plate of food and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach. She was alone in the kitchen with Clarke and so far, they were both okay... nobody had said anything mean and it was actually, almost kind of... nice, to just eat and talk casually. And it gave her hope that maybe, whenever they do _talk_... it might go better than it had last time. She glanced at Clarke, but didn’t expect to see the blonde looking at her, curiously. 

“So, what happened to you last night? Too much to drink or what?”

“I... uh, no... I mean, yes, but... I assume you mean, the, um... incident.”

“The incident? Lexa, you passed out... Like, I’m just, I know Raven enjoyed it, but I mean... Are you okay? What actually happened?”

Lexa felt wholly unprepared to answer that. Because what _had_ happened? Sure, Lexa was definitely really enamored with Clarke’s chest, but she wasn’t so useless she’d just... black out. And she’d seen them before... unrestricted by clothing, felt them even, and... fuck, focus. Her ears were turning pink, she could feel it.

“I... honestly, I’m not sure. I mean I drank more than I usually do... and it was hot and then ` Anya was pushing me toward you, and... I mean, I didn’t think you’d want me so close, since... Well, I mean I get that you kind of hate me, and I just... I guess I panicked. I tried to stop it, but then... you were there, and I was... touching your... I’m so sorry, Jesus Clarke, I’m really-”

“I don’t hate you.” It was a whisper, barely audible, but Lexa heard it and she didn’t believe it, didn’t trust she had heard correctly, because of course Clarke hated her, that much had been clear from the start. Well, not the very start, obviously... But, if it was true, if she didn’t hate Lexa, then... then maybe the painting did mean something and maybe, maybe... there was hope.

“I... I’m just sorry.”

“But you still don’t know _what_ you’re sorry for, Lexa. You don’t understand... what you did, how I-” There were tears in Clarke’s eyes and she scooted her chair back and stood up, legs unsteady and voice unsure. “I just, I’m hungover and I can’t explain it right now.”

“But, Clarke, I do-”

“I’m gonna go... take a shower or something. You can finish up the food, or leave it and I’ll clean it up later.”

Well fuck, there went another opportunity, gone before it had a chance to begin, and maybe Lexa shouldn’t have expected to be able to have that conversation yet. Clarke had only just told her last night that they should talk, and she was right because they definitely needed to. But... at this rate, it might be another damn year before they do. Because, for whatever reason, Clarke seemed so sure that Lexa didn’t understand... but she did, didn’t she? Did she?

Lexa sat at the table for thirty minutes, mind racing with doubt. She was still sitting there when Clarke came back downstairs after her shower, the plate of food untouched and a distant look in her eyes. Lexa didn’t even notice Clarke had come back down, didn’t hear her footsteps on the stairs or the water running in the kitchen sink as Clarke cleaned up the breakfast mess... She was too focused on running through every single conversation or argument (but same thing in their case, at least) they’d managed to have, to piece it all together... because if she did get the chance to apologize again, she couldn’t fuck it up.

She remembered the ice queen comment, Clarke had called her cold and distant more than once, but if she was distant, it was to avoid making a scene, nothing more, so that wasn’t it... and hell, Clarke was the one who wanted Octavia to knock Lexa on her ass... But it was that first night, the night they saw each other again for the first time since the party... Clarke had said something, something just before she called Lexa a coward... a coward... but why... at the time, all Lexa saw was red, but now... If she thought about it with a clear head, there had to be more to that comment, something she did... and when she to see Clarke at work, she mentioned... _oh_.

Was that what all of this was about? All because she had run... had been scared of what she felt? It wasn’t like she meant to. Clarke couldn’t have expected her to _feel_ something after one night... But she had, just the same... and if she really thought about it, there had been that look in Clarke’s eyes a few times... like she was hurt, like... Lexa had pushed it all so far from her mind, tried to forget that it happened, to let her heart heal after Costia, and Clarke... But that last kiss had been, had felt like more and sure, she initiated it but Clarke definitely reciprocated - _shit_. Maybe Clarke _had_ felt more that night, maybe that painting meant everything Lexa had hoped it meant, maybe... maybe Clarke _did_ like her, too...

Heavy footsteps on the stairs and voices in the kitchen broke her concentration and she looked down at her plate of now-cold food and wondered if she should try microwaving it before Anya’s hand was on her back and she forgot the food all over again.

“Hey, kid. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied dryly. “ _We’re_ not.”

Anya sunk down in the chair next to her and sighed, lowered her voice to a near whisper and said, “Lexa, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you’d pass out... Like, come on, kinda hard to be a lesbian if you can’t touch a boob without-”

“I did not- that’s not why,” she grumbled.

“Well, we’re both sorry. I had way too much to drink and after what Raven said about Clar- it sounded like a good idea at the time and it wasn’t. Honestly, we thought... maybe if we pushed the two of you together, you’d just... _you know._ ”

“We’d just _what_?”

“Come on, Lexa. I know.”

“Know _what_?”

“ _I know._ ”

“I still don’t-”

“Fine, Lexa. But you know, it’s kind of my job to read a room and if you think for one second I didn’t see you, and Clarke, and put it together... Look, I don’t know what you did to hurt her, and you clearly don’t want to tell me, so it doesn’t matter. I was just hoping maybe... you would finally get your head out of your ass. I mean, the two of you, the tension, its so obviously-”

“Obviously what, Anya? You have no idea what-”

“You both still like each other!” It was loud and it was harsh and Lexa cringed because she was just positive Clarke had heard Anya that time, so she sat there in stunned silence waiting for the other shoe to drop, but... nothing happened.

Lexa looked around the kitchen and Clarke and Raven had both disappeared, probably talking in the living room, or out on the porch. And thank God because Lexa could not afford to have another altercation with Clarke, and certainly not because her sister was a jackass.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lexa replied, as calm as ever, like she wasn’t secretly hoping that Anya was right, like there hadn’t been a moment of clarity before Anya came downstairs when Lexa realized that maybe that had been the problem all along - that it had always been more for _both_ of them... except Lexa was the only one who ran.

“I love you, Lexa, but you’re an idiot,” she deadpanned and stood. “I don’t know the whole story, but whatever happened, you’re not over it. And neither is she. And now I’m going to go grab breakfast from the bagel place on the corner. Do you want anything, or are you just going to keep staring at your plate?”

“Pick me up a bacon, egg, and cheese. Toasted.”

“Alright.” She squeezed Lexa’s shoulder once for good measure before adding, “I am sorry, though. Even if it did kind of work.”

What? What did that mean? How did it work? She couldn’t ask because Anya was out the door already, gone before Lexa fully comprehended what she had said. Fuck. Whatever. Lexa dumped her cold breakfast into the trash can and washed the plate. She could hear Raven and Clarke talking in the living room, but she didn’t want to interrupt, so she headed for the back door - she’d just wait in the garage for Anya.

“Lexa!” Raven shouted just as she turned the knob. “Come here!”

Lexa dropped her head and sighed as she let go of the handle. She didn’t know what to expect, but she prepared herself anyway, steeled her expression and walked into the living with her chin held high. She didn’t expect to see-

“... _are now seventy-two confirmed cases in the state, that number expected to triple by Tuesday as tests are analyzed and results come in. The Governor has scheduled a press conference, we are expecting that to begin shortly and we will, of course, cut in as soon as that begins_.”

“Fuck,” Clarke breathed out.

Lexa moved around the couch and sat down, so focused on the headlines that scrolled along the bottom, she didn’t realized how close they were, or that Clarke didn’t make a move to put distance between them.

“When the hell?” Raven asked. “I didn’t even think anybody here had it, didn’t Marcus say-”

“Yeah, but... that was last week, and... well,” she shrugged, “looks like it’s here.”

“Sounds like it’s been here,” Lexa offered. “It takes a week for the results to come back, so... I mean there’s no telling how far its spread already... fuck, we really didn’t prepare, did we?”

“Well, what did you expect? Nobody ever believes the scientists,” Raven replied, a hint of offense in her tone, like she took it personally even though she worked on rocket ships or astronaut suits or something like that.

The Governor popped onto the screen just as Anya walked inside with bagels and Raven urged her over and turned the volume up.

“ _Good morning, welcome. I will take questions at the end, please... be patient with me. This is not something I expected so soon. My own son, Cage, is traveling right now. As a father, the hardest thing is not being able to protect your child. But, I have to think about more than just myself in this trying time. I have to think about all of my people, and... this is going to seem drastic to some of you, but it is the right thing to do. Many of you know I’ve been critical of the President before, I’ve been in touch with the scientists, I’ve considered all of the options, and I cannot, in good faith, go along with the President’s rhetoric and tell you that we’ll be okay. We need to get ahead of this and we are already behind. So, I am officially issuing a stay-at-home order, effective at five p.m. tonight. All businesses that are deemed non-essential will be closed indefinitely. I understand the impact this will have on you, your families, your ability to survive, but... it is also the only way we move forward, beat this pandemic, and save lives...”_

The four of them sat in stunned silence. What the hell was going to happen now? Anya grabbed her phone and called her boss, went upstairs to change - she had to run into the office and grab her case files and computer. Raven followed shortly thereafter - her boss had called and told her to get everything she’d need to continue work on her project from home, said her deadline would not be postponed, not even for the end of the world (astronauts could still go into space, after all, there was no Lagervirus on the moon).

Lexa was left on the couch alone with Clarke, but neither of them had moved. Clarke’s phone chirped from its place on the couch between them, someone named Murphy, and she swiped it before Lexa could blink, started texting furiously, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“No,” Clarke sighed. “My boss, Murphy... the bar is closed. I’m officially unemployed.”

“Fuck, Clarke... I’m sorry, that... that happened fast.”

“No, we... we’d talked about it, I mean... if the order came, like what they did on the west coast after those airports were shut down... I just, I didn’t think it-”

“Well... you know, if you need anything, I... I’ll help you, however I can.”

“What? You’d... why?” Clarke’s expression had turned softer for a moment, before something seemed to click in her head and Lexa saw that flash of something she thought might be hurt and then it was just gone and Clarke looked... confused, distrustful perhaps.

“I... Look, I’m not as cold as you think I am. I... I do care... about you.”

“Wow. That’s... surprising, considering-”

“Can we not... do that, anymore?” Lexa buried her head in her hands and tried to hold the tears at bay. She was just so fucking tired of fighting with Clarke, and she did care, she cared too much, too soon, that was the problem. “You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t have to listen to anything I say, but can’t we just... be civil, maybe? I mean, Clarke, we are living together and I wouldn’t bet you’ll be moving back to your apartment anytime soon, so can we please... please just-”

“Okay,” Clarke whispered. “Sorry, yeah, we can...”

Lexa nodded once and it felt like the air inside of her lungs had expanded and she could breathe a little easier all of a sudden, like she’d been holding her breath just a little bit for months, and fuck, okay... Clarke said okay. So maybe she wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t ready to listen, either, but that was fine, because at least, at least they could actually sit in the same room, on the same couch even, and not... try to kill each other. Or hurt each other, with words mostly, although Clarke had held that axe kind of aggressively, so... But, that didn’t matter because they would be... they _could_ be, okay.

“Look, Lexa... I know that I need to apologize, too - I do... I’m just... I’d rather not open that can of worms right now, okay? So... for now, if we can just... I dunno,” she sighed.

“Pretend to get along?” Lexa offered.

“Try to? I mean... everything is shit and we’ve been kind of... shit, but-”

“I’d like to... try to get along, I mean.”

“Okay,” Clarke nodded resolutely.

After a few minutes of somewhat comfortable silence that had settled between them, Lexa’s phone dinged with a text from Anya.

“Oh, shit... Do you, would be mind coming to the store with me? Anya just texted and asked me to stock up on groceries and I don’t really know what you and Raven eat... and it’s probably going to be crazy out there, so it would really be helpful-”

“Hey.” Clarke stood up. “If we’re going to do this - this whole being civil and getting along thing, I mean - then let’s just... try to be ourselves. So, less of that awkward thing you’re doing, we both know you’re cooler than that. And I know its awkward between us, and I know I haven’t made it any easier but... I mean we _are_ living together, like you said, and you know, we could just... ignore the elephant in the room? For now? Come on. I’ll go throw my hair up and put a bra on and we can go.”

If Clarke noticed when Lexa glanced at her chest, she didn’t show it. She just hurried up the stairs and left Lexa on the couch thinking about what she’d said and... well, and now her boobs, too. _Shit, focus._ Lexa pulled her shoes on and grabbed and keys and soon, they were both in her truck and headed to the store.

“So,” Clarke started as Lexa navigated the hoard of cars in the parking lot to find a spot, “how do you wanna do this? Tackle it together, or separately?”

Lexa didn’t know why the idea of shopping separately stung so much, but it just didn’t feel right to send Clarke off into the madness on her own. That and she really liked the idea of doing something so domestic with Clarke. Especially now that they were talking to each other like... well, like normal. Like maybe they could have been talking to each other all along if Lexa hadn’t been such a damn chicken.

“Together,” she said as confidently as she could as she finally found an empty parking spot. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Yep.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.” Lexa nodded and they both jumped out of the truck. “But hey, just... I’ll push the cart, alright?”

“Whatever suits your fancy.” Clarke shrugged.

The store was packed full of people who were in full-on panic mode. Lexa grabbed a cart and Clarke reached out and took her elbow, maybe on instinct, or maybe so they wouldn’t get separated, but it made Lexa’s heart beat faster and she didn’t hate the way Clarke clutched a little bit tighter as they weaved through a throng of people in the bakery. They grabbed bread and bagels, and a small cheesecake that Clarke promised would help them survive, before heading to produce and the deli.

Lexa learned very quickly that Clarke was a fan of food - all food. And she got this excited little smile when she spotted something she really liked, and big pleading eyes when she silently asked if she could get something, like the 24-count box of Rice Krispies treats and the bag of pizza rolls, and of course, Lexa nodded every time because how in the world could she deny Clarke when she was smiling like that?

An hour and a half later, with an overflowing cart full of food, soda, toilet paper (thank God), and two bottles of wine more than they needed, they got in line to check out. A gruff older man coughed as he pushed past them and knocked into Clarke’s shoulder. She grabbed onto Lexa even tighter than she had earlier and buried her face against Lexa’s shoulder and Lexa may have died a little bit, but in a good way, because it felt really fucking good to have Clarke so close but it was really fucking scary at the same time. Clarke didn’t pull away, even after he was gone. She just clutched Lexa tightly with her head against the cotton fabric of Lexa’s t-shirt, and only when they moved up to the conveyer belt and had to break apart to unload their cart did she let go.

“Did y’all find everything okay?”

“Yeah, we did. Thank you.” Lexa smiled at her warmly, and helped bag up the groceries - the cashier looked exhausted, probably because the place was crazy and so were most of the people shopping.

“Oh, thank you.” She tilted her head at the bags Lexa was loading. “Y’all are a really cute couple.”

Lexa coughed and looked at Clarke. Clarke’s eyebrow had cocked up that tiny bit, the way it did when she was issuing a challenge, but... if there was a test Lexa could pass or fail in that moment, she didn’t know what it was. Lexa opened and closed her mouth once, twice, but nothing came out. She looked down at the bag and then back up at Clarke who was smirking, eyebrow still up, studying her.

“You think so?” Clarke asked the woman, the hint of amusement in her tone. “That one,” she pointed at Lexa, “is not that into me, if you can believe that.”

The cashier gasped and looked at Lexa, appalled, at the same time Lexa shot Clarke an incredulous look and said, “That’s not even close to accurate. And also, you’re a butthead.”

Clarke just laughed and, god, it was the sweetest sound Lexa had ever heard because she had made Clarke laugh that time, and it was always beautiful to hear, to see, but Clarke was laughing at her, and not in a mean way, in an adorable way and it was really fucking nice.

“A butthead, Lex? Really?”

“Yeah, a butthead.” She shook her head and turned to the cashier who had been ringing items up with absolute confusion written all over her face before she added, “I think she’s beautiful, for the record.”

The next time Lexa looked at Clarke, her eyes had changed and Lexa immediately thought she had overstepped, thought she had failed the test. She must have because Clarke looked almost like she might cry, or punch Lexa, she wasn’t sure, but dammit, she messed up again.

But then Clarke was closer, reaching for a bag and placing it into the now-empty shopping cart, and she didn’t look at Lexa, but she didn’t shy away either when Lexa reached behind her and added another bag to the cart, so maybe that was something, or maybe Clarke was just keeping it together long enough to finish their trip and get the hell away from Lexa - she didn’t know. But she didn’t walk three steps ahead of Lexa on the way to the truck, either. She wasn’t quite as close as she had been, but she wasn’t far.

“I can load it up, Clarke, if you want to go ahead and get in the truck.” Lexa nodded to the front of the truck and Clarke nodded, but she didn’t move.

Her eyes flashed dark for a second, brow furrowed, before she stepped into Lexa’s space and looked at her, really looked at her, Clarke’s blue eyes searching Lexa’s like they were trying to find meaning, and then Clarke asked, eyes still trained on Lexa’s, “Did you mean it?”

Lexa gulped and let Clarke search her, let the armor fall for a moment, when she said, “Yes.” Because of course she meant it, Clarke was the most beautiful woman she’d ever laid her eyes on. But Clarke was looking at her like she couldn’t tell, like she couldn’t trust her own intuition, so Lexa dropped it all, every guard and wall and shield she’d had up to protect her heart, she let go and let Clarke search her eyes again. Clarke let out a shaky breath and nodded, like that was all the confirmation she needed... confirmation for what, Lexa didn’t know, but Clarke took a step back and turned to get into the truck.

The drive back to Anya’s was stifling and Lexa wondered if maybe they were back to square one. But once Raven and Anya came out to help them unload, Clarke sounded like her usual self again. And if she avoided Lexa for the rest of the afternoon, it wasn’t obvious enough for Lexa to be certain.

_____

Ignoring the elephant in the room was the best decision they had made. Because if neither of them talked about what went wrong the night they met, then the night in question didn’t exist. And if it didn’t exist, then they could just... be.And yeah, they’d have to talk eventually... but with everything that was happening outside, it was nice... to have one less thing to worry about.

On Monday morning, Lexa’s boss called and told her the gym was closed and that, while they were looking into online training options, they hadn’t figured anything out quite yet, but they’d be in touch as soon as they had a solution. Raven and Anya were holed up in the small office off the dining room working - at least they could work from home. Clarke, on the other hand, was sitting on the couch surfing through the channels with nothing to do at all... just like Lexa.

“Feel like kicking my ass at video games?”

Clarke turned around and smiled. She was wearing gray sweats and a black Whitesnake concert tee and her blonde waves were tucked under a SnapBack, and Lexa might have lost her breath momentarily, completely taken aback by how fucking beautiful Clarke was, even when she wasn’t trying. And being on the receiving end of a genuine Clarke Griffin smile was worth the whole not-being-able-to-breath thing, even if it did make her look like an idiot, just standing there like a fish out of water waiting for Clarke to make up her mind.

“Definitely,” she scooted over and patted the spot on the couch right next to her.

“What are we playing?” Lexa asked as she handed a controller to Clarke and got comfy cross-legged on the couch next to her.

“Gran Turismo Sport. It’s a racing game. We’ll do an easy course first, like... here, that’s a giant circle.”

“Looks like NASCAR.”

“Basically, yeah. There are better ones, but... you suck, so.” She shrugged and winked at Lexa, and Lexa’s heart stopped again.

She didn’t suck, actually, which was surprising to both of them. And frustrating for Clarke who had been prepared to wipe the floor with Lexa, so she said. Clarke shoved Lexa’s shoulder, bumped into her repeatedly, did everything she could to knock Lexa off her game, but once she’d had a taste of victory, Lexa was unstoppable.

“Alright, alright,” Clarke laughed. “Enough of this. Let’s play Injustice 2 instead. You’re a fighter, right? So you should be good at this one, too.”

“Who are all of these people?”

“Batman, Superman, DC comics? Ringing any bells?”

“Sure, but like... I don’t know them well enough to know who to pick.”

“Pick whoever you want! I’m gonna kick your ass either way.”

“Fine. Then I’m picking the hot chick.”

“What, no! I’m picking the hot chick!”

Lexa selected Black Canary at the same Clarke chose Wonder Woman. Raven stepped out of the office to grab a snack and snickered as she commented that they both obviously had a type. And even after Lexa chose another character, and another one, Clarke whooped her into the ground.

“I could literally take any of them,” she huffed.

“Okay, Lexa,” Clarke deadpanned.

“Clarke,” she reasoned, “you’ve seen me fight.”

“Octavia doesn’t have superpowers. Or special moves. Not the same.”

“You wanted her to kick my ass that night.” Lexa smirked.

“Eh,” she quirked her brow before admitting, “I was hurt. Thought it would help if you were hurt, too. But Octavia gave me the what for that night, so I think it’s safe to say she’s on Team Lexa.”

“Her brother certainly isn’t.”

“Bellamy knows more than he should... I don’t normally confide in him, he’s a bit-”

“Aggressive.”

“Protective,” she snapped back. “He means well, okay? And he took care of me that night, so... ”

“What... what do you-”

“Nothing, sorry... I, never mind. Listen, pick someone else so I can kick your ass again one more time before dinner.”

Was it dinner time already? Damn. They really had spent the entire day on the couch together playing video games and not a single mean thing had been said... kind of the opposite, really, what with the teasing and joking and general playfulness they shared... and fuck, if that wasn’t something. And maybe there were still things they needed to talk about, but if Clarke wasn’t ready yet, then this would have to do.

And Clarke did kick her ass again before she got up and declared it was time to make dinner and that since neither of them were working, they should make something together for Raven and for Anya who had slaved away over their laptops like the working stiffs they were.

So Lexa threw shrimp into the skillet and cooked it through while Clarke cut up veggies and made the sauce and twenty minutes later, the table was set and the stir fry was served. The conversation flowed naturally and it was nice and easy, except when Raven set off on a tangent about her boss and Anya jumped in about how the hell she was supposed to practice law if the courts were closed, but even through all of their complaining, Lexa just smiled because she had spent the whole day with Clarke and nothing could be better than that.

____

Tuesday, Clarke watched movies and sketched while Lexa sat across from her and re-read her favorite book for the hundredth time. And if they happened to talk throughout the day about random things, and their likes and dislikes, and get into a semi-serious argument about what type of pickle is the best type of pickle (which was obviously the kosher dill despite Clarke’s preference for sweet petites) then, the way Lexa saw it, it had been a good day.

And it almost felt like they were becoming friends, maybe... or that there was a very real possibility of it, at least. And if Lexa’s breath caught a few more times on Tuesday when Clarke smiled, or laughed, or poked her tongue out in that adorable kind of way she did sometimes, Lexa didn’t mind it, because Clarke was special, and Clarke was letting her in just a little bit more every day.

Wednesday, they got wine drunk by noon and tried to play video games again, but it just wasn’t going well. Anya yelled at them twice to keep it down because their laughing was just rude since she and Raven were working and therefore, by definition, not having any fun at all. So Clarke put a movie on instead and they talked about high school and Clarke’s short-lived but award-winning cheerleading career, and the fact that Lexa had played basketball and volleyball because she thought it would help her with college, but then she didn’t go.

Clarke didn’t ask her much about the Army, just one odd question about her graduation from basic training, how it felt that day... so she told Clarke the truth, that it had been the happiest day of her life. Because, for all of the times she’d been broken, she’d come back stronger, and when she walked into the first day of the rest of her life, it didn’t matter that her father walked out on their family when she was three, or that their mother struggled to make ends meet, or that the only reason she’d enlisted in the first place was to be able to send money home - all that mattered was that she’d done it, she survived, and she’d been surviving ever since.

Clarke told her about college, how she originally planned on following in her mother’s footsteps and going into medicine, (not the same path, though, because Clarke did not want to be a gyno), but that she just didn’t enjoy it. She told Lexa about her eighteenth birthday and the letter Abby gave her from Jake, the letter he wrote after he got sick, and how Clarke couldn’t bring herself to read it, couldn’t see past the tears, but then after a really bad day at college, she opened it and it changed everything. She switched her major to Fine Arts and, even though she didn’t have an “art job,” she had sold some of her paintings and she liked being a bartender, so she felt good about it just the same.

When Anya finished working, she made a quick spaghetti and they all ate in front of the TV, watching more news about the Lagervirus as it developed, but Lexa wasn’t really paying attention to the TV. She kept stealing glances at Clarke, who had definitely looked at her a couple of times, too, and they smiled at each other, shy smiles full of possibility, full of hope for their now-evolving relationship, and when Clarke’s fingers brushed against Lexa’s when they were doing the dishes, and Lexa’s breath caught again, she felt giddy and excited and oddly thankful for the mold in Clarke’s apartment, and the pandemic outbreak, and all of the things that brought her just a little bit closer. And if, with every day they spent together, little seeds of hope started to plant and grow inside her stomach, Lexa pretended not to notice.

Thursday, Lexa had every intention of working out in the morning and being a little bit more productive overall, whatever that might mean, but she didn’t feel great when she woke up - maybe a little bit hungover from all that wine. Instead, Lexa made herself a bowl of cereal and took a longer shower than necessary before she went over the main house to find out what Clarke was up to. If her stomach turned a bit that morning, she attributed it to nerves, to the nervous feeling that had settled comfortably in her gut, whenever she thought about Clarke and the thing that was happening between them.

Clarke had headphones in and her phone stuffed into the pocket of her sweats, and she was dancing around the kitchen with a Swiffer. When the chorus hit, she pulled the handle close and used it as a microphone, rocked on while she cleaned, and Lexa was sure she’d never seen anyone that fucking adorable in her entire life. She reached for Clarke’s arm to get her attention, to ask if there was anything she could do to help, and she didn’t mean to startle Clarke, but Clarke jumped and shrieked and threw the handle at her just the same.

“Shit, Lex... you scared me.” Clarke’s chest heaved once or twice before she calmed down and asked Lexa how long she’d been standing there, watching.

“Long enough,” she laughed. “Nice moves, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Clarke rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out and Lexa’s eyebrow shot up for a second before she caught herself and lowered it back down.

“Do you want some help?”

“Sure. I’m almost done Swiffering, but Anya ran the dishwasher last night so the dishes need to be put away still, if you wanna do that.”

“Alright.” Lexa nodded and they got to work cleaning up around the house.

After lunch, they settled on to the couch and pulled up a movie on Netflix, but they didn’t talk as much. Lexa didn’t feel great, regretted that wine more and more as they day wore on, and she fell asleep halfway through some Netflix original rom-com that she had only been half-paying attention to, anyway.

When Lexa did wake up again, it was to the smell of the enchiladas Raven was making wafting into the living room and her stomach growled almost immediately. Clarke was sketching something from her place on the couch across from Lexa, tongue poked out in concentration, and when she looked up at Lexa, her eyes were the bluest Lexa had ever seen, bright and full of wonder, and she felt lost at sea temporarily, the air sucked from her lungs again, and her head dizzy and spinning. And it wasn’t that she felt concerned by the way her body kept reacting to Clarke’s presence, because it meant that Clarke was close, and that was amazing, but at some point, she would appreciate it if her body chilled out a little bit.

And she didn’t mean literally chilled out, but later that night, after they’d all eaten dinner and were watching old episodes of Once Upon a Time on Netflix, lamenting how much better it would have been if Emma and Regina had worked out their tension in more productive ways, Lexa shivered. She reached up to the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and wrapped herself up like a burrito, didn’t notice three bewildered pairs of eyes on her, until Clarke spoke up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just... it’s cold, aren’t you guys cold?”

Clarke gave her a curious look before she stood and stepped into the space in front of Lexa, knelt down in front of her, and placed her hand on Lexa’s forehead. Clarke sucked in a breath and Lexa didn’t know what it meant, because her head had been getting fuzzier and fuzzier as the day had progressed and she didn’t feel well at all and she had fallen asleep a couple of times since they sat down after dinner. She couldn’t quite place the concern in Clarke’s eyes, couldn’t really focus on anything because maybe the room was spinning, but maybe it wasn’t and-

“She’s burning up, you guys.” Clarke looked over to where Anya was sitting.

Lexa couldn’t focus on the rest of their words, but she felt herself being hauled off of the couch, realized she was taking slow steps out of the house, and she knew she was headed upstairs, into her garage apartment... She knew she was in her bed, felt the cool pillow against her face, and someone pulled the covers up over her and tucked her in. She thought she felt someone kiss her forehead, but that didn’t make sense, nothing made sense, except that she was in bed and she needed to sleep. So she did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I survived my first week back at work! Yay! It was weird, though, if I’m honest... two chapters left after this and I plan to have them both up this weekend (one tomorrow, one Sunday) if all goes to plan! :)

“She’s burning up, you guys.” Clarke looked at Anya, worry written all over her face.

“Shit, shit, what do we do?” Raven jumped off the couch, looked between them for an answer, but neither of them spoke.

Clarke looked back to Lexa, brushed her hair out of her face, and when she looked at Anya again, she had determination in her eyes.

“What’s that apartment got? What will I have to work with?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, we’ve got to quarantine her, keep an eye on her - for the most part, people get the flu, or well, it’s like the flu, anyway, and it goes away. And she’s fit and healthy and... but we can’t just leave her in that apartment alone, not like this.”

“Then I’ll take her.” Anya made a move toward the couch, but Clarke put her hand up to stop her.

“I’ll do it, Anya. I just need-”

“I’m her sister.”

“Yeah, well I’m her...” Clarke didn’t know what, so she paused, but she needed to get Lexa to bed and she didn’t have time to argue, so she finished her thought as simply as she could. “I’m her friend. And my step-dad works in the ER, I’ve been around health care professionals my whole entire life, and I’ve been with her the most, so... if any of us is the most likely to get it, it’s me. You’ve been in that office and I’ve been right here, with Lexa, on this couch. So, tell me - what kind of a set-up does she have up there?”

“We, uh, we never finished it all the way,” Anya started to ramble, very uncharacteristically - an obvious tell that she was scared. “It was meant to be an in-law suite but the people I bought the house from never finished it, and until she moved in, I didn’t think about it. It’s like a studio, like one room except the bathroom. She, um, about, a couple of months ago she installed counters and there’s a sink but we never got a stove or fridge or anything because, I mean she just came here-”

“What _does_ she have?”

“There’s a mini fridge, like a dorm room one, maybe a little bigger... and a microwave. Oh, and a toaster oven thing. She has plates and bowls and stuff like that... and her bed, and a futon in front of the TV, um...”

“Okay, Raven go get me soups and food I can eat out of the bag, or microwave.” Raven nodded and left the room quickly. “Anya, you’re gonna want to Lysol this whole room once we’re gone. And both of you, wash your hands-”

“How did she, how-”

“Maybe the cart, when we went shopping.” Clarke thought back to the last day they’d been out of the house. “She told me not to touch it, I thought it was like a control thing, I... I’m sorry, if-”

“No, that actually makes a lot of sense. She _would_ try to protect you.”

Before Clarke could unpack that, or question it, Raven was back from the kitchen with two reusable grocery bags full of food - soups, snacks, bottled waters and Gatorade, everything that her quick google search told her to get for the flu - and Clarke motioned for her to take them to the garage.

“Don’t go in, just set them down, I’ll get them after I get her settled.”

Anya reached out and studied Clarke for a moment before she gave Clarke a slight nod, the same one Lexa gave, that spoke volumes if you knew what to look for. And Clarke couldn’t be sure when she figured out exactly what it meant, but she understood.

Clarke pulled Lexa’s arms forward, she was out of it, like dead weight, and Clarke struggled to get under her from the way she had been sitting on the couch, but she managed. She hoisted Lexa up, slung Lexa’s arm over her shoulder, asked her to hold on, and, with her one hand on Lexa’s back and one on her stomach, guided her friend out of the house and up to her apartment.

It was sparse, like Lexa was still living out of a duffel bag, or in barracks somewhere, and Clarke wondered how much of Lexa was still buried, still hiding beneath that tough armor and those high walls, that she didn’t even have pictures hanging up. Or maybe it was because this was always meant to be temporary, living with Anya again, and so she hadn’t bothered to decorate.

She led Lexa to the bed and laid her down gently. Lexa snuggled into her pillow and sighed contentedly as her hands fell limp next to her body, and Clarke moved to pull the blanket up over her body and tucked her in. Clarke felt Lexa’s forehead again - it was on fire. She pushed the stray hairs off of Lexa’s face, watched her breath even out a bit, before she kissed the brunette’s forehead, something she knew she shouldn’t do but couldn’t not do just the same, whispered good night, and went down to retrieve the bags of food Raven had set at the bottom of the stairs.

Once she had put things away, and put bottled waters in the fridge (she’d have to wake Lexa in a bit so she could take some Tylenol and the cold water should help, too) she walked back to the main house and knocked.

“I need some clothes,” she said through the door and Raven nodded. Clarke stepped away from the door and waited for Raven to return; she had the large suitcase, the one Clarke still hadn’t unpacked, and she opened the door, set the luggage on the ground, and shut the door tightly before Clarke moved to get it. She waved at her best friend, mouthed ‘thank you’ and lugged the suitcase with her up the steps.

Lexa was fast asleep when she got back inside, so Clarke settled onto the futon and set an alarm on her phone - she’d check on Lexa in an hour - and turned the TV on with the volume low. She’d have to call her mother tomorrow, let her know what was going on, and she knew it would be a difficult conversation, that her mother would be upset she hadn’t let Anya stay with Lexa instead, that she was putting herself even more at risk, but... if she really thought about it, there hadn’t been any hesitation on her part. And even though, sometimes, it still hurt when she thought about that night, spending time with Lexa had been nice, comfortable. And really, there was nowhere else she’d rather be, no one else she’d rather be with... and maybe that was more scary to her than the risk she was taking with the virus, because the real risk she was taking was with her heart.

_____

When Clarke woke up around seven Friday morning, she checked on Lexa again - she’d taken some Tylenol the night before, but her forehead was still warm, so Clarke set the bottle out on her nightstand and made a mental note to make Lexa take more when she did wake up - and then she grabbed her phone and prepared herself for the lecture she would inevitably get from Abby.

“Hey, Mom,” Clarke said when Abby answered the early morning call.

“ _Clarke? It’s early for you, what’s wrong?_ ”

“Lexa has a fever. We’re isolating in her apartment over the garage. Raven and Anya are in the main house-”

“ _Wait, you’re in the garage with her? Clarke, why are you_ -”

“We’ve been together all week, Mom. Raven and Anya were in another room working most of the time, but Lexa and I, we’ve been... it just made the most sense, and I know you don’t like it, but it’s done. So, what now?”

“ _You’ve been spending time with Lexa... all week... I thought_ ,” she paused and Clarke waited for her to finished the thought, but when nothing came, she spoke up.

“Yeah, mom. We haven’t talked about... the, um, whatever it is but we’ve been playing video games and watching movies and talking... and it’s been nice, it’s been... it’s been okay, you know? We’re... friends maybe? And she’s sick and I need to know what to do.”

“ _Clarke, if you get sick... do you have a fever? Shortness of breath? Are you coughing?_ ”

“No, Mom, not yet. I’m fine. But her fever didn’t break last night, I gave her Tylenol and I’ve been checking on her, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“ _There isn’t much you can do, Clarke. You should have isolated her on her own, but I get the feeling that’s not an option for you. Shit, I should have let you stay... But, it’s done so... basically, treat it like a cold - fluids, soup, teas, plenty of rest. If she isn’t feeling better at the end of seven days-”_

“She will be.”

“ _Clarke_ -”

“She will be, Mom. She’ll be fine. She has an excellent nurse, right? I learned from the best. It’s going to be fine. I’ll be fine, too. I promise.”

And she couldn’t make a promise like that, but there was no way she was going to leave Lexa all alone, either. She could hear Lexa stirring behind her, so she said goodbye to Abby and walked over to Lexa’s bed, sat on the edge and squeezed Lexa’s arm.

“Hey, sleepy-head.” She smiled at the brunette as her eyes flitted open.

“Hi.” Lexa smiled back, but she looked confused because she didn’t know why Clarke was in her room sitting on her bed. “What...?”

“Here.” Clarke handed Lexa the Tylenol and a bottled water. “Take this.”

Lexa furrowed her brow but did as she was told. She looked around her room and spotted the luggage on the floor by her futon, pointed to it and looked back at Clarke.

“Why... what happened?”

“You’ve got a fever, pretty bad one I think. Last night, you were pretty out of it, shivering under a blanket on the couch, so... I brought you to bed.” She shrugged. “We’re stuck here for a couple of weeks, just you and me.”

“We...” She swallowed thickly. “You shouldn’t have-”

“Someone had to. My parents are doctors and I’m out of work, so... now I’m your nurse. Speaking of, how long have you been feeling bad, Lex?”

“Um, like two days maybe? I thought it was just the wine, though.”

“Is it just the fever, or were there other symptoms?”

“Like what?”

“Coughing? Shortness of breath?” Clarke meant to rattle off several symptoms, but Lexa winced and her eyes went kind of wide for a second, so Clarke stopped and focused on that. “Lexa, how long have you been having trouble breathing?”

“Oh... Clarke, you don’t understand... I’m always kind of breathless around you,” she answered sheepishly as her cheeks burned a little redder than they already were from the fever, and the tips of her ears were pink and she looked down at the floor to avoid Clarke’s eyes.

“Lex.” Clarke smiled. How fucking cute. “That’s flattering, but... you’re also an idiot.”

“Hey!” Lexa shot Clarke a playful glare and pouted.

Clarke just laughed and got up. She grabbed a pack of pop-tarts and a Gatorade for Lexa so she could get some food in her stomach. Against her better judgement, Clarke climbed into bed with Lexa and pulled her close after she handed everything over. Lexa’s head was propped up on Clarke’s chest, her back pressed into the pillows next to Clarke, and she munched on her pop-tart lazily, like she wasn’t sure she could keep it down, but was too hungry not to try.

Clarke ran her fingers up and down Lexa’s arm softly, and Lexa leaned into her a little bit harder, sighed into Clarke’s touch. Clarke felt something bloom inside of her chest, felt warmth spread through her, and it wasn’t from a fever or any virus - it was Lexa, pure and honest Lexa, content and smiling in her arms. And fuck if that wasn’t the thing she’d been trying to avoid, but... it didn’t feel right to keep ignoring the pull, to lie to herself or act like this, like Lexa, wasn’t inevitable. And maybe it would hurt like hell, maybe it would be a mistake, but... maybe it was exactly right, too.

**Anya** : How is she?

**Clarke** : better, resting now

**Anya** : Keep me updated, please.

And thank you, Clarke.

**Clarke** : of course

Clarke patted Lexa on the knee and asked, “Do you think you can manage a shower?”

“Do I smell?” Lexa wrinkled her nose, but Clarke just laughed.

“No, but I think it might help... If you’re not too weak. I know you’re tired, but-”

“And if I am too weak, are you gonna help me?” Lexa’s eyebrows wiggled and Clarke decided she’d spent too much time around Raven, or maybe sick Lexa was just naturally a lot more flirty, but either way, Clarke rolled her eyes and shoved Lexa’s shoulder playfully.

“No,” she deadpanned. “If you can’t shower, I’ll run you a bath instead.”

“With bubbles?” Lexa’s voice was an octave higher than normal, a goofy grin spread across her beautiful face, and yeah, if she wanted bubbles, Clarke would give her bubbles.

So Clarke got up and ran a bath for Lexa. She found clean towels in a cabinet against the wall, laid one down on the floor and set one on the sink, and drained half a bottle of body wash into the running water until the bath was more bubbles than water. When Lexa ambled into the bathroom, she already had her sweatpants off and was tugging at her shirt.

“Right, so I’m gonna let you do that... without me. Have a good time.” Clarke rushed out of the bathroom, cheeks flooded red from the sight of Lexa, her muscular thighs and the abs peeking out from under her t-shirt as she struggled to pull it over her head, and _Jesus_ , the woman was sick and there Clarke was, ogling her.

“Hey Clarke,” Lexa called out from behind the now closed bathroom door. “What if I’m too weak to get out?”

“You’ll manage!” Clarke blushed harder at the thought.

When Lexa emerged from the bathroom, Clarke was laying on the futon watching the Harry Potter marathon that had been playing on loop for days. Lexa meandered over and climbed on top of Clarke, still tired and feverish. Clarke opened up her arms and welcomed the brunette in, wrapped her arm around Lexa’s back as she settled, the full weight of her body on Clarke, and when Clarke’s breath caught, it wasn’t because of the virus, but because Lexa had slotted her leg between Clarke’s thighs and wiggled until she was comfortable.

Lexa’s breathing evened out sometime after Clarke started playing with her hair. Clarke threaded her fingers through unkempt curls, and rubbed Lexa’s arm with her other hand until she, too, had fallen asleep.

A loud commercial snapped Clarke awake, her eyes flew open and she adjusted to the glare from the TV - the room was dark, and judging by the movie onscreen, they’d been asleep for a couple of hours. When Clarke peeked down at Lexa, she was still sleeping, but her hand was higher than it had been when they’d first laid down... She was cupping Clarke’s breast, fingers spread as if, even in her sleep, she wanted to touch as much of Clarke as she could.

Clarke scratched at Lexa’s back, gently coaxed her awake, and when Lexa opened her eyes, a slow smile spread across her lips as she blinked the sleep away. She met Clarke’s eyes and mumbled a sleepy hi before her eyes slid shut again.

“What, uh... whatcha doin, Lex?”

“Mmm, sleepin’.” She burrowed her head deeper into the crook of Clarke’s neck.

“And your hand? That sleeping, too?”

Lexa lifted her head and looked over to where her hand was resting comfortably on Clarke’s boob. She just smiled the goofy little grin she’d had since the fever started, brain foggy and filter removed.

“That is my emotional support titty,” she declared proudly.

“You’re what now?”

“It’s my emotional support titty, Clarke. I’m in distress. It’s helping.”

If it had been anybody else, she might have thwacked their hand away, but Lexa’s eyes were half-closed and she was grinning like an idiot, and it was so fucking cute, Clarke couldn’t even bring herself to be upset about it.

“Well, as long as it’s helping...”

“Mmhmm, it is.” Lexa nodded, gave Clarke’s boob one solid squeeze, and laid her head back down, nuzzled into the warmth of Clarke’s neck, and was asleep within minutes.

She let Lexa sleep for a little while longer before her stomach was grumbling and she needed food. She made more soup for Lexa, a pb&j for herself, and they sat on the couch together in comfortable silence. Sick Lexa had two speeds - wide awake and flirty, or very sleepy and still, somehow, flirty. And the sleepier Lexa was, the more snuggly she got. Clarke had to practically tear Lexa off of her when it was time for bed, had to forcibly remove Lexa’s arm from around her neck just to lay her down, and even then, Lexa reached out for her hand.

“Stay,” she whispered, voice needy and sincere.

And Clarke knew her mother would be against it, would tell her it wasn’t a good idea, but so far, Clarke felt okay. And Lexa was lying there, sick as ever, and all she wanted was Clarke... and maybe it didn’t mean anything, maybe it was just because she was there, but Clarke couldn’t help the way her stomach fluttered when Lexa held her hand, tugged at it so gently but also adamantly.

So Clarke climbed into the bed, on the other side, and scooted close to Lexa, pressed her front against Lexa’s back, felt Lexa sigh deeply as Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s core. Something about falling asleep like that, holding Lexa... felt like the perfect most natural thing she’d ever done. And in the middle of the night when Clarke rolled over, Lexa did too. Her arms tightened around Clarke and she nuzzled her face against Clarke’s neck and for a second, it felt like soft lips pressed against her skin, and maybe she imagined it, but the way her heart sped up was very real.

______

Lexa’s desire for cuddling only increased after that. As if the time they spent on Friday cuddling wasn’t enough, like it didn’t come close to the kind of comfort Lexa needed. So Saturday morning, after breakfast, Clarke climbed back into bed beside Lexa and hugged her tight, rubbed her back lightly and played with her hair, until Lexa was asleep again. And even when Lexa was out cold, Clarke stayed there, played on her phone and texted with Raven and Octavia, but never let go of the beautiful brunette beside her.

Even after dinner that night, Lexa clung to Clarke. When they were on the futon, Lexa was practically in Clarke’s lap, hand planted firmly for emotional support, and she rambled about silly things, like how fascinating squids were, or how superior raccoons would be to any other house pet but Anya wouldn’t let her get one. And Clarke had every intention of sleeping on the futon once Lexa was in bed, but she tugged at Clarke’s wrist and pulled her down and, once again, Clarke fell asleep with Lexa wrapped snuggly in her embrace.

Lexa’s fever didn’t break until Sunday afternoon. They were curled up on the futon watching TV - Clarke’s arms were wrapped tightly around Lexa’s torso and her head was cradled between Clarke’s shoulder and the couch - and it didn’t take long before the front of Clarke’s shirt was soaked in Lexa’s sweat.

“Babe.” Clarke nudged Lexa’s arm. “Get up, you need to change.”

“You keep calling me babe,” Lexa replied, sleepily. “I like it.”

“Okay, well, come on.” She pushed against Lexa a little harder, embarrassed that she’d let the nickname slip so many times that even sick, Lexa had been able to pick up on it.

Clarke nudged Lexa over to her dresser and told her to change, turned around and rooted through her suitcase to find a clean shirt, and without even thinking, she pulled the wet shirt over her head. She didn’t expect Lexa to notice, mostly because her brain had been foggy for several days now, but she did. From the other side of the room, Clarke heard Lexa say, “Whoa.” And when Clarke looked over at Lexa, she was staring, eyes wide and mouth open.

Clarke cocked her eyebrow at Lexa and put her hands on her hips. “Have you changed yet?”

“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, eyes glued to Clarke’s chest.

And if she weren’t still focused on getting the brunette healthy again, Clarke might have commented on Lexa’s apparent fascination with her tits, might have told Lexa how flattering it was, or that nobody had ever looked at them with quite that level of appreciation before. Under other circumstances, even, she might have told Lexa about the things it did to her, when Lexa reacted like that... but no - they were still not okay, and Lexa was still sick, and dammit Clarke needed to get her head out of the gutter.

Clarke pulled a clean t-shirt on and Lexa whined, pushed her full lips into a pout, and watched as Clarke headed her way. Clarke watched Lexa gulp, her throat bobbed and her eyes turned a little bit darker as Clarke stepped into her space and pulled Lexa’s wet t-shirt up and over her head.

“You’re a terrible patient, you know that?” She dropped the shirt onto the floor and turned to dig through the drawer Lexa had opened before she’d been paralyzed by the sight of Clarke’s chest.

“No. You’re just really hot and I’m really gay,” she said with a shrug.

“Put this on.” Clarke rolled her eyes and shoved a shirt against Lexa’s abs.

“Fine,” she whined. “Does this mean I’m all better?”

“Not yet, but... it’s a good sign.” Clarke pulled her phone out and let Anya know the fever had broken.

“So, we can still cuddle?” Lexa looked hopeful and sincere, and of course they could, Clarke told her. Even when Lexa was better, Clarke wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep without Lexa in her arms, and that was definitely not a welcome thought.

Later that night, Raven dropped some more food off at the door, and much to Clarke’s delight, the PS4, two controllers, and a couple of games. With Lexa getting better, they would definitely need something to do to occupy their time, or their hands, as it were.

But when Lexa changed and settled into bed, Clarke hesitated. The futon wasn’t uncomfortable, and if Lexa was getting better, she should probably at least try to sleep on her own.

“Hey,” Lexa called to her softly. “Come on.” She patted the spot next to her on the bed.

“I-”

“Please?”

“Okay.” Clarke stepped over to the bed and crawled in. Lexa rolled over and pulled Clarke in close, and if her hands wandered a little bit before settling on Clarke’s chest, Clarke pretended not to notice the warmth that spread through her body.

____

Monday, Lexa was officially on the mend. She sat across from Clarke on the futon with a book, and even though she still dozed off from time to time, overall, she was feeling a lot better. Clarke spent the better part of the afternoon downstairs at her easel, sorting through her emotions and considering the current trajectory of their relationship. If it had been Raven, of course, Clarke would have taken care of her exactly the same, except... Raven wouldn’t want to cuddle with Clarke, or hold her boob for that matter, and she certainly wouldn’t have shared a bed with her sick friend, or kissed her forehead, wouldn’t have increased her own risk like that, but... with Lexa, it just felt like exactly where she needed to be, wanted to be, and she was definitely struggling with that.

She was startled by a knock on the door around five. Raven held up a bag and Clarke walked over, curious. Raven disappeared from view as she bent down to set the bag on the ground before stepping away so there was space between them when Clarke opened the door.

“What’s this?”

“Chinese. I figured you could go for some real food, and restaurants are open for delivery, so we ordered some.”

“Oh my God, you are seriously my favorite human being,” Clarke said and she inhaled the delicious smells - although anything would be better than another sandwich. “What did you get?”

“There’s Kung Pao chicken for Lexa, if she’s up to eating. And orange chicken, for you, sesame chicken, some fried rice, obviously, um... spring rolls, too? Might be egg rolls, I don’t remember what Anya ordered. Oh, and crab rangoon for good measure.”

“You are seriously the best person on the planet.” Clarke smiled. “I would hug the fuck out of you if I could.”

“Please don’t! With you guys both gone, I need all the fuck left in me, if you know-”

“Ew, nope. Not gonna go there. Thank you, though, for this.”

“Yeah, no problem. How are you holding up? You guys still getting along?”

Clarke laughed. “You could say that. She might be an emotionless robot when she’s well, but she’s a flirty little cuddle bug when she’s sick.” A slow, wistful smile spread across her lips.

“Still on that robot shit? Really?”

“It’s a self-preservation thing, Rae.”

“Mm, well... robots don’t give people heart-eyes, Clarke. And that girl gives you serious heart-eyes. And, uh, looks like you’ve got some, too.”

“I do not,” she gasped. “It’s just cute, that’s all, how affectionate she is... And also wildly inappropriate. This,” she pointed to her left boob, “is her emotional support titty.”

“What?” Raven chuckled. “You let her get away with that?”

“A couple of times, actually,” Clarke admitted shyly, but the suspicious look on Raven’s face caused Clarke to almost shout in defense “What? She said it was helping!”

“Okay, Clarke,” Raven replied dryly. “You’re a mess, you know? But. I love you - not as much as Lexa loves your boobs, apparently, but... I do love you.”

“I love you, too. Thanks for dinner!” Clarke held the bag up and nodded.

When she got back upstairs, Lexa was still reading with the news playing softly in the background. Clarke walked over to her and set the food down on the small coffee table in front of the TV. She definitely looked healthier than she had in days and her hair was damp, so Clarke assumed she had been well enough to shower on her own. When Clarke sat down and patted Lexa’s leg, Lexa looked up from her book and smiled, and there was a fondness in her eyes that Clarke hadn’t seen before.

“Hungry?”

“So hungry - not that I haven’t enjoyed the soup, but-”

“But takeout is better,” Clarke agreed. “Just, don’t overdo it, okay? You’re still recovering.”

“Thank you,” she whispered shyly.

“Yeah, no problem,” Clarke replied, unsure about what exactly Lexa was thanking her for, but meaning the words just the same.

“No, but... ” Lexa looked at Clarke, really looked at her, and Clarke thought she saw something more in the way Lexa’s green eyes burned a little bit brighter than she’d seen them before. “I mean it, Clarke. Really, thank you... for, putting up with me, for taking care of me, for... staying with me. I... I know it’s not where you wanted to be, but-”

“But it is... I, um... I did, do... I don’t mind,” she stumbled, trying not to give away just how much Lexa meant to her, how much things had changed for Clarke since Thursday.

They shared quiet smiles and ate the rest of their dinner with the news still playing quietly on the television. Clarke wasn’t paying attention to it, though, because every once in awhile, Lexa would glance at her, still smiling, and she’d knock their knees together or bump their shoulders, and smile bigger, and it was so casual, the affection between them, that Clarke wondered not for the first time what it meant for them... or could mean, if -

“You were right about me, you know... That night-”

“Lexa-”

“No, I know... we’re not there yet, I just... I don’t want to fall asleep without you, Clarke, but I know... well, I’m mostly better now and you don’t have to, or I wouldn’t ask you to... but if you-”

“Hey,” Clarke said softly, effectively stopping Lexa’s words as she stretched her fingers out and lightly brushed the underside of Lexa’s perfectly cut jaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Clarke leaned forward slowly, eyes on Lexa’s, on the vibrant green, the glimmer of hope mixed with trepidation she saw in them, and she shouldn’t have, but Lexa looked so genuine and prefect and she looked at Clarke with such reverence that Clarke couldn’t stop herself - she cupped Lexa’s jaw with both hands and pulled her closer. Clarke’s lips ghosted across Lexa’s as she pressed a light, barely-there kiss to those pouty lips. Lexa’s lower lip was trembling but she didn’t pull away, and all of the anger Clarke had been clinging to was gone as soon as their lips met. A spark shot through her body and sucked the air from her lungs, but Lexa kissed her back with a gentle earnestness that Clarke could feel in her bones. When a single tear fell and rolled down Lexa’s cheek, Clarke pulled back and studied Lexa’s features, wiped the tear away with the pad of her thumb, and let out a shaky breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Lexa didn’t speak but she didn’t look away - she was studying Clarke the same way Clarke had been studying her. The air around them felt thick, charged by their desire to take it further, to say everything they hadn’t said with lips and limbs tangled together, but Clarke couldn’t let that happen, because she knew if she did, they’d never talk about any of it and, if she was being honest with herself, she wanted it all on the table, if only so they could move forward, exactly this way, without any resentment or regret.

“We should clean this up.” Clarke gestured to the food they’d all but abandoned on the small table, forgotten and getting cold with each passing moment.

Lexa swallowed thickly and nodded, but she didn’t look away. She was paralyzed, it seemed, by the weight of what had happened. So Clarke dropped a hand to Lexa’s knee and gave it a gentle squeeze as she stood up, but Lexa reached for it, held her wrist and forced Clarke to look at her again.

“I... Clarke-”

“It’s okay... we’re... okay. We will be, won’t we?”

Clarke didn’t know where the question came from - from the lingering doubt she had, maybe, or the realization she hadn’t asked Lexa if she even wanted to be. Because even if Clarke was sure now that there was something definitely going on between them, that there had always been more to the way it felt with Lexa, she didn’t _know_ if Lexa wanted more from her, if she had ever really _wanted_ Clarke that way.

“I hope so,” Lexa whispered. And she opened her mouth again, wanted to say something but thought better of it because she closed it and let go of Clarke’s hand. Instead, she stood up, too, and helped gather the food so they could put it away.

And if the thought had occurred to Clarke at all not to sleep in Lexa’s bed, she dismissed it immediately. When Clarke climbed under the blankets that night, Lexa was already there, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling.

“Lex.” Clarke leaned up on an elbow so she could face the nervous woman beside her.

Lexa looked over, but didn’t move, and it was a far cry from the Lexa that Clarke had come to know over the past week, the Lexa who wouldn’t hesitate to wrap her body up in Clarke’s embrace. But Clarke wasn’t going to sleep like that - on separate sides, all awkward and unsure. She needed to feel Lexa, the weight of her body, pressed against Clarke’s. So she sat back up and grabbed Lexa’s arms, tugging gently until Lexa was up, too.

“Get over here,” she urged, her tone light and playful, and Lexa smiled at her and started to make her way across the space between them.

Clarke pulled Lexa down so her body was mostly on top of Clarke’s, and even though it hadn’t been unusual for Lexa to sleep that way, it felt almost dangerous now because they were both awake and very aware of their proximity. Still, Clarke didn’t mind it - having Lexa was better than not having her, while she still could. So she wiggled into a comfortable position and told Lexa to do the same, and when they finally settled in, their bodies were pressed together, Lexa’s arm draped over Clarke’s torso, fingers tracing patterns in the soft skin on Clarke’s side. So Clarke took a chance and laced their fingers together like an anchor, like if she let go of Lexa’s hand, she might turn away. But even after they’d drifted off to sleep, twisted and turned during the night, one thing remained - their hands, clasped together and fingers intertwined, like they were always meant to be.

______

Tuesday was filled with quiet moments and shared smiles. Clarke didn’t go back downstairs to her painting, didn’t want to stray too far from the woman she had slowly forgiven and fallen in love with, even if she wasn’t ready to admit that to herself. They spent the day lounging in bed, Lexa reading and Clarke scrolling through social media and playing games on her phone, ignoring what had happened the night before if only to delay the inevitable conversation they both knew was coming.

Wednesday, they went back to the futon and Clarke showed Lexa some of the special moves for Black Canary - not too many to let Lexa win, but enough to make it competitive. After awhile, Lexa asked if they could try to play a game where they weren’t pitted against each other, where they could be a team, and if it felt like more than a simple request, it probably was - Clarke had given up on second-guessing her gut regarding Lexa.

In fact, the only time she had probably been wrong about the woman was that night, when she started to over-think everything, let the sting of rejection overwhelm her, especially after Finn, until she couldn’t see it for what it was, as if her brain was somehow more intuitive than her heart - and history and past experience may have told her that was true, but Lexa wasn’t like anybody she’d ever known before, and treating her as such just felt like a mistake now.

Thursday marked a week since the fever hit and Lexa had fully recovered, thank God, and even better, Clarke didn’t get sick at all. So for all of Abby’s concern, things were surprisingly okay.Except that Lexa had been restless and absolutely, positively _had_ to get downstairs and pump iron or whatever it was extremely fit and toned people did. And she probably should have stayed upstairs for that whole thing, but Clarke decided she could paint while Lexa worked out because they could still keep each other company, even if they were doing different things.

But Clarke didn’t paint. Oh God, she couldn’t even lift the brush with Lexa’s abs flexing right before her eyes, strong arms tensing, the muscle hard and tight as she pulled the bar down - Clarke didn’t know why on earth Lexa felt the need to workout in nothing but a sports bra and basketball shorts, except that she did know, if that cocky little smirk was anything to go by - and she didn’t know what it was called or what exactly Lexa was doing, but she was straddling a bench and she was sweating, and every once in awhile Lexa would make this kind of half-grunt half-moan noise that had Clarke weak at the knees and struggling to keep her composure.

And she would have been able to if it hadn’t been for the damn smirk Lexa shot her way every time she caught Clarke looking at her, gawking really, as she lifted weights or stretched her hamstrings, Jesus, and the definition of her calves was _doing_ things to Clarke that made absolutely no sense because she had never been hot or bothered by a calf muscle before, and Lexa was absolutely just overdoing it at that point, Clarke was certain of that, because she was more focused on the way Clarke’s eyes trailed up and down her body than on her actual workout routine and-

“You could just join me, you know,” Lexa smirked and nodded toward the machine behind her.

“No, nope.” Clarke gulped. “I’m quite alright.”

Lexa stood and stepped closer to Clarke. She tried to sneak a peek at the canvas Clarke had been hiding behind all afternoon, but Clarke stepped in her way. She swatted playfully at Lexa’s arm and tried to back her up, but Lexa took a giant step to the side and laughed when Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s sweaty waist and tried to pull her away. Clarke held on like dead weight, but Lexa pushed forward one step at a time and when she got close to the easel, Clarke let go and scrambled to her feet and tried one last time to block Lexa from the nearly-blank canvas that had one single, solid line, the curve of Lexa’s jaw, in deep green.

She failed. Lexa interlaced their fingers and Clarke was so caught off guard that she followed Lexa into the corner and watched as she looked at the painting, head cocked to the side and smirk growing wider.

“You really do like my jaw,” she commented.

“What? I do not, that... it’s going to be a beach, boat... a boat on the beach-”

“A beach boat, right... I’ve heard about those.”

“Oh whatever,” Clarke played it off. “I was... distracted.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow quirked at Clarke, curious but smug.

“You know I was.” Clarke narrowed her eyes at Lexa and added, “You did it on purpose, too.”

“Perhaps.” She smiled. “Or perhaps I was trying to provide you with... inspiration.”

“Oh, I’m inspired,” Clarke mumbled, “just not to paint.”

“Hmm?” Lexa asked, stepping into Clarke’s space as she did.

And God, she could have taken Clarke against the cold garage wall if she had wanted to, might have even been considering it given the way her eyes had darkened, when they heard a knock on the door and she stumbled backwards, startled by the sudden interruption.

“Saved by your sister, I guess.” Clarke nodded toward the door.

Anya was standing outside with an annoyed look on her face, like she didn’t appreciate having been kept waiting. She had a large pizza and a pack of beer and she huffed at Lexa when she finally opened the door for her sister.

“Looks like you’re both doing just fine,” she said as she shot Clarke a sideways glance.

“We, I was just... she painted something,” Lexa lied.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Anya replied dryly. “Here.” she shoved the pizza and beer into Lexa’s arms. “I brought you pizza and beer, clearly.”

“Awesome, thank you,” she said as she adjusted the items more comfortably in her arms.

“Thank you!” Clarke called over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs two at a time, if only to avoid Anya’s suspicious gaze.

Lexa came up shortly thereafter and, after she put the beer in the fridge, brought the pizza over to the futon where Clarke was surfing through channels on the TV.

“It’s veggie, like you like,” Lexa said as she offered Clarke the open box.

“Excellent.” Clarke grabbed a slice and thought back to their first fight at Anya’s. “You know, I don’t even like sausage. Not breakfast sausage, either. Bacon I can handle, though.”

“Ugh,” Lexa groaned and pinched the bridge between her eyes. “I’m sorry about that, Clarke, I really am... it was petty.”

“It was fucking rude is what it was, Lexa,” Clarke snapped back, but her tone was light and playful and she nudged Lexa’s shoulder before sinking her teeth into a cheesy bite of pizza.

“I know,” she admitted shyly. “Total assholery on my part.”

“Mhmm,” Clarke agreed around a mouth full of pizza. “We were both assholes, but... we’re better now, I think.”

“Definitely,” Lexa agreed with a nod. “We are. I’m gonna grab a beer. Do you want one?”

And Clarke probably should have declined, but instead she accepted the beer Lexa offered, and another, and it wasn’t like Clarke couldn’t handle her alcohol - she definitely had more than a few beers when they all went out without issue - but a few beers and Lexa’s thigh pressed against hers on the couch and the memory of their recent kiss and the way Lexa’s eyes sparkled when she laughed at something Clarke said and-

Clarke stood abruptly and shook her head to try to clear her mind. She set the empty bottle on the table in front of them and tried desperately to think of something for them to do, something other than...

“Hey,” Lexa spoke softly, “you okay?”

Clarke pondered that for a minute too long. Was she okay? Yes, more than okay. Because she was with Lexa and they were... wait, what were they, exactly? So, no... not actually okay because she wasn’t sure about anything. What were they? Friends? Because it didn’t feel like friendship, at least... not _just_ friendship. It never had. And the flirting... Clarke had expected that to stop when Lexa felt better, but it hadn’t really, might have intensified even... And they definitely had not stopped cuddling, or touching, or smiling...

But they also hadn’t talked, and Clarke was trying to hold on to her convictions, to wait to move forward until they’d handled their past, but it was getting harder and harder to wait, what with Lexa so close and the beer kind of sloshing around in her headspace, and did they really need to dig into something that had happened so long ago, anyway? Did it matter that she spent months feeling rejected by the one person she thought would understand if it turned out that Lexa hadn’t _meant_ to make her feel that way?

“Clarke,” Lexa’s fingers grazed the top of Clarke’s shoulder and she could feel Lexa behind her, could hear the worry in her voice, “did I say something? Or-”

“No.” Clarke turned around to face her and saw the concern in her eyes, like she’d done something wrong, but she hadn’t, had she? Clarke reached up over strong shoulders and locked her hands together behind Lexa’s neck and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay. I was just... thinking.”

Lexa’s eyebrows scrunched together but she wrapped her own arms around Clarke’s waist andasked, “Thinking what?”

And it was so fucking domestic, standing in the middle of the living room, holding each other and smiling and maybe it was the beer or it maybe it was just Lexa or maybe it was just time for Clarke to stop thinking.

“About this.”

Clarke’s fingers tangled into messy chestnut waves as she pulled Lexa close, smashed their lips together in a hot, bruising kiss that sucked the air from her lungs and gave her life and made her knees weak in the best way. Clarke could feel Lexa’s arms tighten around her, strong hands gripping at her back, pulling her in until there was no space, no air between them but their hot breath mixing together as the kiss deepened, grew hungrier and needier. And God, when Lexa’s tongue swept into Clarke’s mouth she had to hold tighter to stay standing.

Clarke broke the kiss long enough to push Lexa down, her ass hit the futon and she grunted in surprise, but then her eyes flashed dark and Clarke was climbing on top of her almost immediately, straddling her and attacking her lips as her hands slid up Lexa’s thighs, underneath the fabric of her shorts. Lexa’s hands were on Clarke’s chest, on the bottom hem of her shirt, her back, her hair, _everywhere_ , roaming with an intensity Clarke had never experienced before, like Lexa needed this as badly as she did.

She swallowed the moans that escaped Lexa’s lips as Clarke gripped at her thighs, caressed them and slid her hands higher. Lexa pulled back, breathless and in need of air, so Clarke pressed her lips to the underside of Lexa’s jaw, down her neck, and back up before she felt fingers tangled in her hair and tugging her back up so Lexa could kiss her again and, fuck, if she wasn’t already sitting down, her legs would have buckled under the weight of a kiss like that. Clarke could feel the heat shoot through her, arousal pooling between her legs, as her hips bucked into Lexa. And God, she could ride Lexa into oblivion but even more than that, she needed to feel Lexa for herself.

With one hand still tangled in Clarke’s hair, Lexa dragged her fingers up Clarke’s stomach, lightly bit down on Clarke’s bottom lip when her breath caught, and started to massage Clarke’s breast, rolled a taut nipple between her fingers as Clarke moaned and leaned into the touch. But even as good as it felt to have Lexa’s hands on her, as needy and wet as it made her, she could feel Lexa working up the way her thighs tightened as Clarke squeezed them and raked her short nails across the soft skin she found there, so Clarke leaned in to Lexa harder, changed the angle of the kiss, and slid her hands the rest of the way up Lexa’s shorts. She could feel heat radiating from Lexa’s center, how wet she was through the fabric of her underwear, and fuck she couldn’t wait any longer.

She pushed Lexa’s underwear to the side, two fingers soaked as she slid into wet folds, and Lexa stopped breathing for a second when Clarke circled her clit, her back was rigid already, and she licked and sucked Clarke’s tongue, urging her further, but Clarke just slid her fingers down again, teased at Lexa’s entrance, started to sink her fingers into Lexa-

“Fuck,” Lexa hissed. “Clarke. Stop-”

Shit. What... what was she thinking? Clarke started to panic, blue eyes darting around the room for an escape. Maybe she could go back to the house now, she wasn’t sick, and she could avoid the pain she was about to feel all over again, fuck. How could she be so stupid? Lexa didn’t ask for this, she didn’t want any of it, she never had. She was just caught up in the moment, and they were friends, that flirted, but none of it meant more to Lexa, it never had, had it? Clarke had stopped moving her hands completely, but she hadn’t moved, couldn’t. She felt paralyzed.

Lexa tried to touch her face, but Clarke backed away, tumbled backward and pulled her hands away from Lexa liked she’d been burned. She could feel the panic bubbling in her chest, could taste the bile from her bad decisions, and she had to go. Clarke shook her head, still stuck in that moment when Lexa had stopped her, tried to climb off of the futon completely, but Lexa’s hands flew up and she reached for Clarke’s shoulders, to ground her, or stop her, Clarke didn’t know. But if Lexa was trying to reassure her, it didn’t work. Even when she looked at Clarke with warm, kind eyes and started to rub her back lightly, it did nothing to stop the rampant beat of Clarke’s heart.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispered into the space between them. “I think we should talk.”


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke sighed and shifted off of Lexa fully. Lexa watched her slowly sink into the futon next to her, watched Clarke’s eyes close tight as she took steadying breaths, and it hurt because Clarke looked hurt and Lexa was tired of being the reason for Clarke’s pain.

“Clarke...” She set her hand on Clarke’s knee, for comfort or reassurance or just because she needed to know that Clarke was real, and there.

Clarke buried her head in her hands. Lexa could hear her sniffle, and when she finally looked up at Lexa, her eyes were watery and there were tears streaking down her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything.

“Clarke, I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing, Lexa. Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re upset with me, because I left.”

“Because you left,” Clarke shook her head, “...is that what you think?”

The look on Clarke’s face told Lexa that was definitely not the right thing to say. Clarke pulled her knee out from under Lexa’s touch and shifted in her spot. When she looked back at Lexa, it was almost sardonic.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I know it’s more than that-”

“Do you? Lexa... you’ve probably asked yourself what went wrong a hundred times, but... you’ve never asked _me_.”

“I... what?”

“You’ve been apologizing, but you haven’t once just... tried to talk to me about it.”

Fuck. She hadn’t. She played it on loop in her brain, and she knew she hurt Clarke’s feelings when she left because she had worked that out but... no, she hadn’t ever tried to _talk_ to Clarke... not that night and not any since, not without trying to apologize first.

“You... you’re right. I’m sor- um, so. Why... what did go wrong, do you think?”

“Do you know, I wasn’t kidding, when I said... nobody has ever gotten out of bed so fast, and... Lexa you _kissed_ me, you did that, and it was, it felt like you were _really_ kissing me and-”

“I was,” Lexa admitted quickly.

“I know.”

“And it scared me, Clarke-”

“So what, Lexa? So fucking what? So you bolted without saying _anything_ and... fuck, of all people Lexa... like you knew I was fragile. I mean, that’s why... because we were both hurt and, fuck, maybe I’m an idiot but I thought you understood. Everybody around me was coupled up and happy and I was broken. And then there you were, and you were broken, too. And I just... I never thought you’d be the one to... just leave like that, without a word-”

“Like Costia?” Lexa voiced the words she knew Clarke was struggling to say. Because it wasn’t the same, it wasn’t even close, but... maybe it was.

“You didn’t have to fall in love with me, Lexa, but... you could have just been honest with me.”

“And said what? That I _did_ like you and I was scared? I didn’t even know your name-”

“So you thought leaving me there in the room, feeling like an absolute idiot, rejected and alone and hurting even more, was better?”

“No, God - no.”

“But that’s exactly what you did. You made that choice. Fuck, repeatedly you made that choice. You could have talked to me then, or when I came back downstairs... Lexa I walked right up to you and you... fuck, you bolted _again_. Do you have any idea what it felt like to be _me_ that night?”

Lexa had never thought about it that way before. She’d been so wrapped in her own feelings that she never stopped to consider what her panic had done to the other woman, to Clarke.

“I didn’t think about it like that,” she admitted.

“I know,” Clarke sighed. “I mean, why would you? You didn’t know me... but, it was just... the _way_ you kissed me... I thought you were different.”

“I am different.” Lexa sighed.

“You are,” Clarke agreed quietly. “But that night... you weren’t, not to me. And it wasn’t just... I mean even at the bar, I stood there and... you didn’t even acknowledge me. And then Raven shoves me down and I’m stuck there and you... you ask me about Anya? Are you kidding me, Lex?”

“I... well, okay, but-”

“But nothing. It really fucking hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa winced - was she allowed to apologize? “I am, for hurting you.”

Clarke seemed to accept the apology with a slight nod. She opened her mouth to say something, and then stopped, so Lexa leaned in, to encourage her, to let Clarke know she could say whatever she needed to and after brief eye contact, Clarke seemed to resolve herself to ask the question she’d been holding in.

“Why... why didn’t you ever try, to talk to me, I mean?”

“That night? Or after?”

“Both?”

“Shit, Clarke... that night? I was, what did you call me? A coward. I just... I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to feel what I felt and I didn’t think there was any way you’d feel it back.”

“I did.”

“I... How was I supposed to know that?”

“I dunno, Lexa... you didn’t stick around long enough to find out,” Clarke said with a pointed look.

“No... no, I didn’t because I spent two years with Costia and she didn’t... she didn’t even love me enough to say goodbye,” Lexa felt the burn behind her eyelids as she held back the painful memory and tried to keep the tears at bay. “And I knew, Clarke, as soon as I kissed you... I knew you were... I mean, I didn’t _know_ you, or anything about you, but I _wanted_ to and I could just tell... you could be someone that I... that could mean a lot to me, and that scared the shit out of me.”

“But at the bar... enough time had passed and-”

“I saw you, that night... in the elevator. You were draped all over some tall, dark, and handsome type and I... Clarke, for a long time... I thought you’d gone up to, _you know,_ with someone else the same night,” Lexa dropped her eyes to the floor - she couldn’t look at Clarke.

“You... wow,” Clarke let out a heavy breath. “That... explains the night at the axe place, then... but you do know that Bell is... he’s like my brother.”

“I didn’t know who he was... I’d never met him, or been introduced to him as O’s brother, I never made the connection.”

“So you... you thought I was, what, picking up strangers all night long? Taking them all to bed?”

“I... maybe?”

“Why... why does that hurt worse right now?” Clarke stood up abruptly and started to walk toward the door. “I can’t... this was a bad idea.”

Clarke’s eyes were wet all over again and Lexa was out of her seat immediately and taking long strides to Clarke, to put herself between Clarke and the door, but Clarke was reaching for the handle and she was definitely crying and Lexa could not let her walk out that door.

“Please, Clarke.” Lexa reached for Clarke’s wrist - she wasn’t rough or demanding, but it was enough to stop Clarke from turning the handle, and that was enough for Lexa to continue, to try to salvage the entire night. “Don’t... don’t do what I did, Clarke. Please. Don’t run from this.”

Clarke didn’t say anything. Lexa could hear the short puffs of air she was taking in, like it was hard for Clarke to breathe, too, like the room was suffocating them both. Finally, a deep sigh, and then Clarke spoke.

“I don’t know if I can stay... your opinion of me was... _so low_.”

“It... I was wrong, but Clarke... you didn’t exactly make it easy for me to... to try to talk you, if I had wanted to, after that night at the bar.”

“No, I... I know that. I guess I just... I thought if I could push you away, it wouldn’t hurt as bad, seeing you... you just, you popped back up and everything hurt all over again, but you didn’t go away - you were everywhere, with my friends, at my bar, you were part of the group and I was... mad and hurt and... I’m sorry, Lexa. I really am.”

“Clarke, it’s fine-”

“I mean, thanks,” she laughed ironically. “It’s not, Lexa. It’s not fine. I treated you like hot garbage, but... and I’m not saying it as an excuse, or like... I dunno, I just feel like... I wanted to _hate_ you, so bad, I wanted to hate you... but I didn’t. And the more I saw you, laughing and... you just fit, and you’re so cool and I knew I liked you, it wasn’t going away... so I thought, maybe if you hated me, then there’d be no chance.”

“No chance at what?”

“At this, at you and me, and the inevitable heartbreak,” she sighed.

“Who says it has to end in heartbreak?”

“Lexa,” Clarke bit her bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling. “Let’s be real, okay?”

“I’m being real, I’m serious. Clarke, I... I’m not going to hurt you again.”

“You’re... Lexa, this is a mess. I’m glad we talked, I’m glad it’s out in the open and maybe we can be... I dunno, be friends, but this... come on, we can’t do this.”

“But... if I hadn’t stopped you-”

“Then you wouldn’t be you.” Clarke took a step to the left and reached out for the door handle, she gave Lexa a sad smile, before nodding a couple of times, to herself it seemed, and she turned it.

“Wait.”

“Lexa-”

“No. I don’t buy that, Clarke. It’s a mess - so what? So. Fucking. What.”

“So, we spent the better part of _months_ thinking... or saying... just, we were horrible to each other, okay? And now-”

“And now you’re scared.”

“It’s not, I don’t-”

Lexa dropped to her knees on the floor in front of Clarke, effectively stopping her words. She looked up at tear-stained cheeks and watery blue eyes and she knew she was the cause, but she also she knew she would never be the cause again, and if Clarke would just listen, maybe she would know it, too.

“You’re scared. I know you’re scared, Clarke. I am, too. But... I love you. And... and if you walk out that door, then you’ll be right - it will undoubtedly end in heartbreak. Mine, yours... but if you stay, if you take a chance on this, on me, maybe... maybe it could be _everything_ , Clarke.”

Lexa could feel the tears rolling down her own cheeks as she looked up at Clarke and waited. The air had completely left her lungs and she felt immobilized by the look of uncertainty she saw in blue eyes. But then, Clarke’s hand fell from the door handle and she held it out for Lexa. Her hand was shaky, but Lexa grabbed it anyway and when she tried to stand, she hoped Clarke couldn’t tell how unsteady her legs felt.

“I love you, Clarke. I love how wrong you are about pickles, and how poorly you handle losing video games, and I love waking up next to you, falling asleep with your hand in mine... Clarke, I can’t breathe when I’m around you, but it’s even harder to get air when you’re gone. And I know I hurt you, you hurt me, too. But... what kind of bullshit life is this if we can’t... if we’re not together?”

“I’m not wrong about pickles,” Clarke stated firmly. “But... I am scared, Lexa. I’m... fuck, I’m terrified.”

“Okay, okay that’s good. We can be terrified together, then.”

“What if... what if it’s too much again and you-”

“I won’t. I promise, Clarke. I won’t hurt you.”

“You can’t make a promise like that.”

“I can,” Lexa nodded. “I swear it, Clarke.”

Clarke stepped closer and pulled Lexa’s hands around her waist. Lexa let go of Clarke’s hands and clasped hers together, let them rest near the small of Clarke’s back, and looked into Clarke’s eyes to reassure her. Clarke snaked her hands up Lexa’s back, scratched lightly at her shoulder blades as she laid her head against Lexa’s chest. She had to be able to hear the hardcore hammering of Lexa’s heart, but it didn’t seem to phase her if she did.

“I appreciate that, but,” Clarke started softly, “...I know you mean it, believe it even, but... can we just, can we be friends first?”

“I can do that,” Lexa agreed quietly but adamantly.

Clarke smiled into Lexa’s chest and hugged her and for the first time since they started talking, Lexa really thought they might survive it - the fight, the past, the pain they’d caused each other. It felt like they were okay, and like maybe, they could be even more that that.

“Can we,” Clarke yawned, “... maybe take a break from feelings and um, go to bed?”

“Yeah.” Lexa nodded. She wrapped her arms tighter around Clarke’s waist. She didn’t want to let go, but she was tired and she knew Clarke was, too, could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice, and if Lexa was honest, she was exhausted.

She stepped back and walked over to her dresser while Clarke rummaged through her suitcase and found something to wear. Lexa opted for loose fitting boxers and a plain white tee. And she tried not to notice the pink boy shorts Clarke had on, or the fact that her bra was already off and her breasts were hanging loosely underneath the oversized tank top.

When Clarke had finished changing, Lexa watched as she took a tentative step toward the bed before looking back to the futon, deciding. Lexa scooted up against the pillows and nodded her head toward the open spot next to her to let Clarke know she was welcome, but she knew it wasn’t up to her where Clarke chose to sleep that night. Everything was out in the open and it felt like it had been positive but... it was still fresh and raw and she wasn’t going to push Clarke for anything she wasn’t ready to give.

Clarke glanced at the futon again before she took another unsteady step toward the bed, and Lexa would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t relieved. She watched Clarke sit and slowly pull the covers over her legs before sinking into her pillow. She didn’t move toward Lexa, didn’t turn over and welcome Lexa into her embrace like she had done for so many nights, but she was there and that would have to be enough.

Lexa stuffed her hands under her head and stared up the ceiling. She could hear Clarke breathing beside her, deep steadying breaths that mimicked her own. The silence that had begun to settle felt heavy and awkward and Lexa started to wonder if maybe Clarke would have been more comfortable on the futon instead when she heard Clarke sigh heavily.

“I can’t sleep,” Clarke admitted shyly.

“Me either,” Lexa said as she sat up in the bed and reached over to turn the bedside lamp on. Clarke sat up, too, but she didn’t move closer.

“I don’t... I-” Clarke sniffed.

“Hey.” Lexa turned to fully face Clarke and crossed her legs underneath her.

Clarke turned her head toward Lexa but she didn’t move... her hand was clutching the sheet and she looked nervous, but Lexa wasn’t entirely sure why. Sure, they’d had words, some of them not completely pleasant, but they’d been sharing a bed for over a week and there wasn’t any reason to be _nervous_.

“Lexa...” Clarke looked down at her lap, the bed, the space between them, before she looked at Lexa and there was something new in her eyes, something serious but kind, though Lexa wasn’t sure exactly... “I just need you to know this, that... I do, too... love you. I don’t know when exactly, or how, or... I just know that I do. And I know that nobody has ever come close to the way I feel about you.” And then a tear fell from her beautiful blue eyes and Lexa reached out for Clarke’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and pulled them into her lap.

“Clarke.” Lexa looked up into her eyes, down to the bottom lip Clarke had pulled between her teeth, and back again, “I know we got it all wrong, but... I want this - I want you.”

Clarke’s lips parted as she sucked in a breath. “I just...” her bottom lip trembled, “I feel like... it’s gone so far off the rails already,” she whispered and swallowed but she didn’t try to finish her thought, and Lexa didn’t know what she meant.

“I don’t... why does that matter?” Lexa turned Clarke’s hand over in hers and pulled it up to meet her lips.

“I’m not... it’s just... we started it all so wrong,” Clarke admitted.

“Yeah,” Lexa chucked slightly. “But... ” Lexa chose her words carefully, “I did everything right with Costia. And Finn?” She looked to Clarke for confirmation - yeah, they’d started out right, too. “So... maybe starting wrong is _why_ this is right.”

“Smooth.” Clarke drew the word out for longer than was necessary, but she had started to smile again and even if she was kind of picking on Lexa, it felt like _everything_.

“You liked that?” Lexa smirked and Clarke just nodded, but there was a blush creeping up along the column of neck. “Yeah, that was pretty good. I felt good about it as soon I said it.”

“Oh, I could tell.” She lifted her hand to the underside of Lexa’s jaw and ran her thumb along the curve of Lexa’s lips. “This smirk of yours is very telling.”

Lexa’s smirk grew into a full fledged smile almost immediately because Clarke was looking at her with sparkling blue eyes and for the first time, Lexa was absolutely positive about what she saw in them. And if a full fucking forest erupted in her stomach from the little seeds of hope that had been planted a couple of weeks ago, she wasn’t going to question it.

“Come here.” Clarke opened her arms as she started to burrow back under the covers and Lexa mirrored her actions without hesitation.

She reached over and turned off the lamp before she rolled onto her side to face Clarke and shifted closer until their noses were nearly brushing and she could feel Clarke’s breath against her cheek. Lexa pushed her jaw forward just enough to kiss Clarke’s nose and she could hear the smile spread across Clarke’s lips from the contented sigh she let out.

She didn’t expect Clarke to angle her face and capture Lexa’s lips in a slow, languid kiss. She didn’t expect to feel the kiss so deeply, or that her heart would stop beating and pound erratically in her chest simultaneously, or that Clarke would shift closer and tangle her fingers in Lexa’s hair. She let Clarke take the lead, if only because she couldn’t believe it was happening at all - Clarke was in her bed and they were kissing and Clarke loved her back and even a full-on slap in the face wouldn’t convince her that it was real, that it wasn’t a dream, that she wasn’t hallucinating.

But it was real, _Holy shit_ , it was real and it was happening.

Clarke’s fingers untangled from Lexa’s hair and she broke the kiss and when Lexa looked at her, even though the room was dark, only lit by the moonlight filtering in through the large window in the makeshift kitchen area, she could tell that Clarke’s eyes were a darker shade of blue - the kind of blue that sent shivers down Lexa’s spine and heat between her legs.

Clarke sat up and pushed the covers down off of them both, and Lexa watched intently as Clarke turned, planted her hands on the sides of Lexa’s head, and swung her leg over Lexa’s middle. She pressed into Lexa’s abdomen as she leaned forward and captured Lexa’s lips in a gentle kiss that still managed to leave Lexa breathless.

And maybe that was her plan, maybe she wanted Lexa to stop breathing completely, because then she leaned back up and slowly peeled her tank top off, and Lexa’s eyes dropped, focused on two perfect breasts and if she had blacked out then, she would have completely understood because _fuck_. When Lexa finally managed to pull her eyes away and back up the expanse of creamy white skin to Clarke’s face, her eyes, the smirk and quirked brow that were waiting for her did nothing to calm the unbridled beat of her heart.

“You’re ridiculous,” Clarke laughed. “They’re just boobs.”

“No,” Lexa swallowed. “They are magnificent.”

And if she had been temporarily transfixed, the way Clarke’s eyes were shining brought her back into the moment. Lexa threaded her fingers into Clarke’s hair and pulled her down into a scorching kiss that burned her lips and left her parched and gasping for air. Clarke’s hands snaked under her shirt, lifted it. She pulled away so Lexa could sit up and take it off and when Clarke leaned back in, her breasts grazed against Lexa’s and she felt dizzy and needy. Her hands slid between them and she massaged the silky skin, drew circles around Clarke’s nipples with her thumb, and relished in the moan she elicited from the gorgeous woman above her.

She wasn’t prepared when Clarke started to grind against her lower abdomen, but she could feel how wet-hot Clarke was even through her boy shorts and as badly as she wanted to spend all night working at Clarke’s breasts, she needed to get those offensive panties off of Clarke and out of her way. Slowly, she dragged her fingertips down the expanse of Clarke’s body, swallowed the sounds Clarke made, and with one arm wrapped around Clarke’s back, the other firmly planted on her ass, Lexa managed to flip Clarke over - she landed on the mattress with a dull thud, but her pupils were blown and her breathing was ragged and she looked at Lexa with a new kind of fire in her eyes.

Lexa didn’t waste any time. The intensity with which she kissed down Clarke’s body was something new even to her and she could feel heat pooling between her legs as she made her way lower and lower until her lips were hovering over the top hem of Clarke’s underwear. She could almost taste Clarke through the fabric as she kissed her center and _fuck_. She attacked the edges of the underwear and dragged them down Clarke’s thighs, and once they were gone, discarded somewhere on the floor of her makeshift apartment, she took in the sight before her.

Clarke was fucking beautiful. _Jesus_. If she spent any time cursing herself for walking away from this once, she didn’t dwell on it. Lexa leaned back down onto the bed and settled comfortably between Clarke’s thighs. She caught the moment when Clarke’s breath hitched and smiled to herself for having been the reason for it. She couldn’t believe it - Clarke _loved_ her.

Lexa dropped her head, placed a firm but delicate kiss on the inside of Clarke’s thigh, and then looked back to Clarke, looked into her eyes just to make sure one last time, and Clarke nodded, almost imperceptibly, but it was there, before she dropped down onto the bed, propped up by her elbows so she could watch as Lexa kissed her again. Kissed her way up the inside of Clarke’s thigh, so delicately that Lexa could feel the shiver that ran through Clarke’s body by the quiver of her legs.

Lexa could taste Clarke’s arousal on the inside of her thighs the further up she travelled as she kissed and licked her way to Clarke’s center. She pressed her lips against Clarke’s clit and heard the sharp intake of breath Clarke took, felt Clarke’s hands tighten as she pulled at the sheets, and she squeezed Clarke’s thighs as she swiped her tongue through Clarke’s soaking wet folds.

“Fuck,” Clarke hissed and she dropped onto the bed and threaded her fingers into Lexa’s hair.

“Mm.” Lexa swirled her tongue against Clarke’s swollen bundle of nerves. “You taste so good.”

Clarke squirmed and pressed her heel into Lexa’s back, urging Lexa to give her more. Lexa sucked and teased Clarke’s clit, felt wet heat coat her chin, and then drove her tongue inside. She licked into Clarke as she pushed further and _fuck_ , she could stay there all night. Lexa let her hands wander back up Clarke’s body, past her soft stomach, up to her breasts and she kneaded and rolled stiff peaks between her fingers, working Clarke up. She could feel Clarke’s chest rise and fall rapidly as she took uneven breaths and sucked in air between the litany of curses that tumbled from her beautiful lips.

“Lex. Fuck. Fu-” Clarke pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gripped at the edges of the sheets beside her.

Her hips bucked into Lexa’s face in a desperate plea for more. Lexa slowly dragged her tongue up to Clarke’s swollen throbbing clit and pressed into it hard before easing off. She teased Clarke with gentle licks and lazy circles, savored the way Clarke felt in her mouth, on her tongue, until Clarke’s fingers were in her hair again and tugging at her gently. She stilled her tongue for a moment, long enough to look up into Clarke’s almost black eyes, and the sight sent shivers down her spine.

“I need,” Clarke gasped, “more.”

Lexa pressed one final, hot kiss to Clarke’s clit and shifted, kissed her way up Clarke’s stomach as she moved her hand down. Clarke whined at the loss of contact and squeezed her thighs together, but Lexa pushed them apart and settled against Clarke’s side.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

Something flashed in Clarke’s eyes when Lexa said it and she gripped Lexa’s neck and pulled her into a heated, feverish kiss that made Lexa’s knees weak and her lower lip tremble. Clarke’s hands gripped Lexa’s back and urged her down so that their bodies were flush together, and her hips bucked again into nothing.

“Baby,” Clarke whispered against Lexa’s ear. “Please.”

Lexa had never been as big a fan of the pet name as she was in that moment, the needy breathless way Clarke said it, the heavenly tone in her voice, and suddenly every single neuron in Lexa’s brain was firing and it was almost too overwhelming to process. But Clarke’s lips were on her again, hot against her throat, her jaw, and she pushed Clarke’s thigh down to spread her legs farther apart.

When Lexa’s fingers finally sank into the velvety-soft soaking wet center, Clarke bit down into Lexa’s shoulder to stifle the desperate moan that surged up through her throat and Lexa hissed.

“Sorry,” Clarke mumbled into Lexa’s neck as she ran her fingers over the sore spot.

But Lexa couldn’t even feel the pain anymore when her fingers pushed deep inside of Clarke. _Fuck_ , she was tight and Lexa could feel Clarke’s walls tighten and suck her fingers in deeper. She pumped her fingers in and out slowly in a steady rhythm that matched the rise and fall of Clarke’s chest as she kissed down the column of Clarke’s neck, sucked lightly at her pulse point, before working her way lower and taking a nipple between her lips and sucking. She could feel Clarke’s stomach tighten and her grip on Lexa’s shoulder intensified, but she didn’t push Lexa for more, content to let Lexa work her up until she was panting and cursing and holding the pillow under her head with a white-knuckled grip.

“Fuck, Lex,” Clarke managed through ragged breaths.

Lexa pushed in deeper as her thumb grazed lightly over Clarke’s sensitive bundle of nerves and her hips jerked into Lexa’s touch.

“Lex,” she whined as she pushed her hips up and harder against Lexa’s fingers.

Lexa peppered Clarke’s chest with hot kisses, pumped her fingers faster, licked up her neck to the underside of her jaw, and captured Clarke’s lips in a bruising kiss. She slid her tongue along Clarke’s bottom lip, licked inside her mouth as their tongues moved against each other, and pumped faster, harder into Clarke.

Her body was writhing. Lexa swallowed her moans and rubbed deep, lazy circles around Clarke’s clit with her thumb, fingers still inside and curling with every other thrust. Clarke’s head fell back against the pillow and her eyes slammed shut.

“Fuck, I’m-”

“I’ve got you,” Lexa whispered into Clarke’s shoulder.

Lexa added another finger and felt Clarke’s walls stretch and tighten, stilled her movements long enough for Clarke to adjust, before she started moving them again and when she did, once, twice, curled inside and pressed her thumb harder and-

“Oh... fuck-”

“That’s it, baby. Come on,” Lexa urged.

“Lexa-”

The last letter of her name stuck on the tip of Clarke’s tongue as her back arched and her body pulled taut and Lexa could feel Clarke’s nails digging into her shoulder and her legs were shaking and then Clarke let out an earth-shattering scream as the orgasm ripped through her body like a hurricane and Lexa felt a fresh gush of heat flood her palm. She carried Clarke through it as the wave crashed and only dared to pull her fingers out once Clarke had collapsed back onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

Clarke lifted her head enough to catch Lexa’s lips in a breathless, feather-light kiss, only to let it fall back onto the pillow seconds later. Lexa chased her lips and kissed her slow and with intent, let the kiss say everything she felt in that moment, and hoped that Clarke knew, could understand the meaning behind it.

And she must have, because she kissed Lexa back with the same kind of intensity. And as soon as her heart beat was close to normal and her legs were steady again, Clarke was pushing Lexa back and climbing on top of her.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispered. “I...”

“Shh,” Clarke kissed her. “We’ve done enough talking.”

Clarke didn’t waste any time. She had Lexa’s boxers off and on the floor in a matter of seconds and when she crawled her way back up Lexa’s body, she did it with a cool confidence that had Lexa crumbling already. She sucked in a breath to steady her heartbeat when Clarke’s head dropped suddenly and she felt teeth and lips slowly marking the inside of her thigh.

And then Clarke’s tongue was on her, hot and licking through her like Lexa was the answer to all of her prayers and _fuck_ when did she get so needy? There were stars dancing behind her eyes and her legs were already quaking when Clarke’s fingers followed the path of her tongue, softly stroking her folds, pushing into her and-

“Fuck,” she choked out.

Clarke was working her up faster than anybody ever had and _Jesus_ she wasn’t going to be able to last long at all if she kept it up. She could feel herself tighten around Clarke’s fingers as she pumped them in once, as deep as she could, and her body reacted immediately - her breathing quickened and her back pulled tight and Clarke was sucking on her clit as she moved her fingers in and out with quiet determination.

“Clarke.”

“Mm,” she breathed against Lexa’s center and Clarke’s warm breath forced her hips to buck from the sensation.

Fast in, slow out, Clarke’s fingers curled with her thrusts and she pulled Lexa’s clit into her mouth and the entire room lit up like the fucking Fourth of July when the wave crashed over her - her head slammed into the pillow and her body went rigid and she was positive her fingers were breaking from the force of her grip on the sheets. Clarke’s fingers stilled but she continued to draw lazy figures around Lexa’s clit, lapped her way through Lexa’s soaking wet center, down her thighs, and then she hummed contentedly, satisfied with how easily Lexa had fallen apart under her touch.

Lexa blinked through the haze, struggled to focus as Clarke climbed her way back up Lexa’s body and nestled in against Lexa’s side. She wrapped her arm around Clarke’s back and pulled her close. She could taste herself on Clarke’s lips and the mix of their arousal flooded her senses as Clarke’s tongue poked through her lips and slid against hers in a lazy kiss that still managed to take her breath away.

“I love the way you taste,” Clarke smiled against her lips, “and how easily you came for me. You’re fucking beautiful when you break.”

“Clarke.” Lexa’s cheeks flushed, and Clarke laughed. It was husky and deep and the kind of laugh Lexa could listen to for the rest of her life.

She pulled the comforter up and covered their bodies before Clarke nuzzled her head into the crook of Lexa’s shoulder and fell asleep as Lexa threaded her fingers through Clarke’s golden waves, scratched lightly at her scalp, and drifted off shortly after.

______

Friday and Saturday, they barely left the bed save for a quick bowl of cereal in the morning to keep their stamina up, and one treacherous attempt at a shower that proved to be more difficult than Lexa had anticipated when she suggested it. Clarke ignored her phone and so did Lexa, in favor of making up for lost time and getting to know one another in _every_ way imaginable.

Sunday morning Lexa was startled from her position between Clarke’s thighs by a low grumble emanating from Clarke’s stomach, and she laughed lightly as she asked, “Hungry?”

“No,” Clarke lied - the second rumble broke through almost immediately and she grinned sheepishly. “I can wait. Keep going.” She bucked her hips up into Lexa’s face and smiled.

Lexa made quick work of it despite her desire to spend another hour or so comfortably licking and sucking at the sensitive bud between Clarke’s thighs, and when she did come up for air, Clarke’s legs were still shaky and her arm was thrown haphazardly over her face, but she was smiling even as her stomach protested again.

“Hang tight.” Lexa pushed off of the bed and ambled over to the kitchen in search of food.

“As if I could fucking stand,” Clarke husked in reply before leaning up on her elbows and watching as a very naked Lexa opened the cupboard and pulled down a box of pop-tarts.

“Maybe we should see if we can’t get something delivered. Something more... substantial.”

Lexa tossed the pop-tarts over to Clarke and grabbed her cell phone from the dresser - she had a ton of texts from Anya (yikes) and a missed call from an international number that she thought was odd, but not enough to concern herself with, not when she had Clarke Griffin naked in her bed and at least four more days of uninterrupted time with the blonde before their self-imposed quarantine would end.

“You might want to check your phone, Clarke. I have a bunch of texts from Anya asking if we murdered each other, so... I’d be willing to bet Raven sent you a few, too.”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to know... I’m not ready for that. At all.”

“So, I shouldn’t tell Anya that I was temporarily transfixed by your naked body and haven’t been up for air in days?”

“Lexa! No, don’t you dare-”

“I was kidding, Clarke. I did let her know that we’re alive, though.”

“So,” Clarke opened the pop-tart wrapper, “what’s for breakfast?”

Lexa ordered a veggie omelet, hash brows, a stack of pancakes for Clarke, and extra bacon for them both and asked Anya to bring it over when it was dropped off at the front door. They spent the rest of the day wrapped up under a blanket on the futon watching movies and making out and ignoring the rest of the world completely.

Monday, Lexa wanted to work out despite Clarke’s pleas for her to stay in bed instead. She managed to pry Clarke out from under the covers and drag her downstairs so they could spend time together, even if Clarke refused to do much more than watch Lexa from behind her untouched painting. If Anya or Raven had ventured outside at all, they would have seen a completely new kind of bench press and a whole lot more of Clarke’s body than either had ever seen before, but neither of them did (thank God).

Tuesday, Lexa made it her mission to draw out every single curse word in the English dictionary from Clarke’s pouty lips, and Wednesday, Clarke returned the favor. But when Thursday morning came, neither of them wanted to wake up or face the day - it was their last day of solitude before Raven would inevitably come pounding on the door in celebratory cheers that they’d survived the Lagervirus. She’d probably have made them both t-shirts by now.

“Hey.” Lexa kissed Clarke’s exposed shoulder and waited for her to blink away the morning haze. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm... honestly? I’ve never slept better than I do with you,” Clarke answered softly as she stretched out her arms and rolled onto her back. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to the guest room now.”

“You... you don’t have to. Just because you don’t have to stay here doesn’t mean you can’t... choose to.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, Clarke. Just because we can go back to... normal, it doesn’t change what happened between us... I mean, I don’t want it to. I want-”

“Me, too.” Clarke smiled and she leaned back up onto her elbow. With a quirked eyebrow and telling smirk, she asked, “So... wanna make the most of the time we have left together then?”

“What did you have in mind?”

Clarke flashed Lexa a wicked grin and climbed on top of her and _holy shit_ Clarke Griffin would absolutely be the death of her, but in the best fucking way possible.

_______

“So, Anya said we’re making dinner. Apparently we’ve been ‘lazy’ and it’s time we got back to work,” Lexa shrugged as she read through her latest texts while Clarke packed up her suitcase.

“That’s fine with me,” she said as she zipped the luggage. “You wanna lug this down stairs for me?”

“Sure - are you, did you leave anything here for-”

“No, I need to do laundry. I’ll pack it back up before bed tonight.” She winked and God it was just unfair the affect Clarke had on her.

Anya and Raven were holed up in the office when they finally walked back over to the main house around noon on Friday, much to Lexa’s delight because she wasn’t ready to spoil her newly blossoming relationship with Clarke, and Anya would absolutely be able to tell that they’d slept together as soon as she saw Lexa’s face.

She wasn’t ashamed of it - _God no,_ quite the opposite - but Anya was good at teasing her and Raven seemed to have a real knack for it as well and she just wasn’t prepared mentally for either of them. Lexa lugged Clarke’s suitcase up to the guest room for her and grabbed a laundry basket so Clarke could sort out what needed to be washed. If she felt entirely too happy about doing something so utterly domestic with Clarke, she didn’t care - she would do all of the domestic things if it meant she got another day with her favorite person on earth.

“There you go.” Lexa pushed start on the washing machine and turned around to find Clarke with her eyebrow raised and a dangerous smile playing at the edge of her lips. “What is that look for?”

“You,” Clarke stepped into her space, “are doing,” placed a kiss to the corner of Lexa’s mouth, “my laundry,” and the other corner, “and I was thinking,” and then to her lips, “I might have to wife you.” And then her tongue slid against Lexa’s lips and she might have fainted because Clarke just said she wanted to _wife_ her and-

“Hey, where are you two?” Anya called from the living room and Clarke jumped away from Lexa like she’d been burned.

“Just,” Lexa took a calming breath, “doing laundry.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Anya stepped around the corner and if the smirk on her face was anything to go by, she knew - fuck she definitely knew.

“So, about dinner,” Lexa said in an attempt to change the subject. “What are you feeling? I could grill something-”

“Is that the best you’ve got? Lexa,” Anya tsked. “You’ve lost your touch.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lexa rushed out as she sidestepped Anya and headed to the kitchen.

Lexa opened the fridge and waited for Clarke who had followed closely behind her. She ignored the laughter coming from the laundry area and sorted through the produce and proteins in the fridge - Lexa decided burgers would be easy enough and Clarke said she’d make bacon cheese fries to go along with them. Once that was settled, they meandered out to the living room and waited with baited breath for Anya, or Raven, or both of them but-

Clarke’s phone started ringing just as Raven burst through the office door with suspicious eyes that darted back and forth between them like she was trying to judge for herself - did they or didn’t they?

“Hey, Mom.” Clarke held her phone and put it on speaker which Lexa didn’t understand at first, but almost immediately, Raven was at Clarke’s side and talking into the phone, completely distracted by Abby Griffin.

“Mama Griff!” Raven shouted at Clarke’s outstretched hand.

The telling look Clarke shot Lexa was clear - they had been saved, for the moment at least. Lexa sat on the couch next to Clarke and listened to the phone call with rapt attention. She pretended not to notice Anya’s eyes on her from the doorway.

“ _Raven, honey! How are you? I heard about the apartment_.”

“Yeah, that’s a bummer. But I’ve been living with my lady so it’s actually been nice - plus with Clarke over at casa Lexa, we’ve had plenty of alone time, if you know what I mean.”

“ _Well, as long as you’re being safe, Raven_ -”

“I mean... I almost threw my back out last night.”

“Ew, Raven. Do not tell my mother-”

“ _That’s not what I mean and you know it. It’s important, especially now, that you be cautious. I know you and Anya have been together for a long time now, but... just in case, it may for the best if you all just... take things into your own hands for the time being._ ”

“What? Mom!”

“It’s way too late for that, Mama G.”

“ _I’m serious you two. There just isn’t enough known about this Lagervirus yet.”_

Lexa watched as Clarke’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. She glanced at Lexa and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before she asked, “Um... mom, what if... what if you accidentally-”

“ _Accidentally? Clarke how do you-”_

“Oh my God!” Raven’s hand flew to her mouth. “You...” she pointed at Clarke and then at Lexa “and you... you... Fucking finally!” She looked over her shoulder at Anya and asked, “Did you know?”

Anya just shrugged and Lexa looked at Clarke who was still looking at her phone and-

“ _Clarke. Take me off of speaker. Now._ ”

Raven must have picked up on the seriousness of Abby’s tone because she grabbed Anya’s hand and pulled her back into the office. Lexa wiped her palms on her jeans and tried to give Clarke space to talk to her mom, but she was sitting right next to Lexa on the couch and she couldn’t help but overhear some of it.

“ _I thought the two of you were friends. When did you start sleeping with her again?_ ”

“Um, it’s been... a few days-”

_“A few days? Jesus, Clarke. She was still sick a few days ago! How could you let this happen? And I know it was no an accident. Not like you were helping her out of bed and oops your hand slipped right in.”_

“Well, it did kind of,” Clarke replied sheepishly (because Lexa had been wet and it had been really easy to just glide right in, but that was neither here nor there and certainly not something Clarke would tell her mother, right?). Lexa groaned and buried her face in her hands - good Lord she would never, ever be able to look Clarke’s mother in the eyes. “But it’s fine, Mom. I feel fine!”

“ _No coughing? Fever? Sore throat_?”

“Uh. Okay, my throat was kind of raw, but I don’t think it had anything to do with-”

“ _Just. Okay. There are some things I do not need to know, Clarke. Will you just... be careful?_ ”

“I will, I promise. I’ll make sure I get plenty of fluids.” She shot Lexa a wink and Jesus. “And if I feel weird or sick or anything at all, you will be the first to know.”

“ _I better be. And Clarke - she better not hurt you again._ ”

“I won’t!” Lexa all but yelped and then her hands were over her mouth and there was dread pooling like lead in her stomach and she did not mean to say anything at all and-

“She won’t,” Clarke chuckled and grinned at Lexa like she was a fool but in a good way, if that was possible, and it was adorable and Lexa didn’t even regret her outburst anymore.

______

“So,” Raven eyed them both from across the dinner table, hands clasped in front of her and burger still untouched on the plate in front of her. “Are you two... together or...?”

Lexa didn’t know how to answer that. They hadn’t actually talked about what they were at all but, well, they had been a bit preoccupied, and aside from agreeing that it wasn’t something they wanted to stop doing, they hadn’t talked about what they might be starting. Lexa looked over at Clarke for some kind of confirmation or... rejection if that was Clarke’s decision, but then she locked onto blue eyes as bright as the sky in the middle of July and she knew.

“Yeah.” She nodded to Raven. Clarke’s smile stretched across her face and lit up the room and it took Lexa’s breath away; she smiled back at Clarke. Anya started making gagging sounds from the chair next to her.

“Ugh, I mean... it’s about time, but if you guys are going to be _that_ fucking gross, Clarke has to stay with you in the garage and you’re only allowed over for dinner.”

“I was planning on staying there anyway,” Clarke sassed, “once my laundry is finished I’ll be packing that suitcase back up and-”

“And we can still be as loud as we want.” Raven wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Anya, and it was Lexa’s turn to gag.

“Can we just... eat and not talk about the two of you having sex, please?”

“To be fair,” Anya pointed a finger at her sister, “she started out talking about the two of you having sex.”

Lexa’s cheeks burned and she tried to hide behind another bite of her burger, but her mind had run away with memories of Clarke’s naked body under her, over her. She coughed to cover up the sudden dryness in her throat.

“You okay, Lex?” Clarke reached her hand across the table and gently stroked Lexa’s arm.

“She’s fine,” Anya replied casually. “She’s just thinking about you naked, and I’m thinking I’d really appreciate it if we changed the subject to... sports or the weather or something.”

And they did. Raven started talking about some basketball documentary she had been wanting to see and Clarke mentioned it looked like it might rain. Lexa commented on how amazing the fries were after Anya complimented her burgers, and for the first time since Clarke and Raven had come to stay, everyone was smiling and happy and it felt... _perfect_.

After they’d all eaten and were full and satisfied, Anya grabbed their plates and Lexa followed behind her with their glasses. The sink was already partially full from the mess they’d made during prep and cooking, but Anya piled the plates in anyway and opened the dishwasher. Clarke and Raven were gathering up the rest of the dishes from the dining room and Lexa could hear Clarke whispering something that sounded a lot like “so fucking good” and if her smile was a little bit smug, she figured she had earned it.

Lexa’s phone started to buzz suddenly as an influx of texts came through and she searched the kitchen for it, but Anya found it first - it was on the counter next to the stove - and she stared down at the screen dumbly before her eyes locked on Lexa’s and narrowed.

“Why the fuck is Costia texting you?”

Behind her, she heard Clarke suck in a breath and when she turned around, the look on Clarke’s face had fallen and she looked... small and heartbroken and her voice was so timid when she said-

“Costia?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Thanks for reading and sticking with it until the end. I hope you like it! :)

“Clarke,” Lexa turned away from Anya and looked at Clarke. “No - it’s not-”

“I swear to God, Lexa.” Anya leveled her with a glare that even Clarke was afraid of.

“Fuck.” Clarke let out a shallow breath. Her hands were trembling and she couldn’t see straight and how... how the fuck had she been so stupid? Again!

“I didn’t know!”

“She said she tried to call you... when the hell did she call?” Anya’s hands were on her hips and she was staring at Lexa accusingly.

“I don’t know, a few days ago? I had a missed call from an international number. I didn’t think anything of it, figured it was just spam.”

“You have a voicemail,” Anya held Lexa’s phone up to show her.

Lexa took a tentative step toward Clarke but she held her hand up - no, she couldn’t breathe and Anya looking at her with... was it pity maybe? ...was not helping at all. Anya looked down at the phone in her hands and Clarke held onto her breath as she pressed play. Then Clarke heard her voice, Costia, and suddenly she felt very real and she sounded beautiful, but of course she would be beautiful - beautiful and real and calling, texting Lexa.

“ _Hey Lexa... it’s me. Costia. Um. Listen I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but... I need your help. This shit is bad, baby, and I need to come home... I need you to help get me home. Please... call me back._ ”

Fuck. Five minutes ago, Clarke would’ve sworn that she was the only person who could call Lexa that, but... Costia... that was two years of Lexa’s life, after all, and how on earth could she compare to that? She’d only known Lexa a matter of months and most of those they weren’t even speaking. Just because the past few weeks had been... _fucking_ incredible, she could in no way compete with two whole years.

Hearing Costia’s voice, it paralyzed Clarke in a way she wasn’t prepared for, and nothing made sense to her, nothing felt right. She looked at Lexa again and if she could have seen straight, could have seen past the black dots peppering her vision, she might have seen the honesty in Lexa’s eyes when she said she didn’t know, but she couldn’t and-

She had to get out of there. She looked at Raven and Raven nodded. She grabbed Clarke’s hand and led her out onto the patio outside where a couple of lounge chairs sat next to the grill and the sun was starting to set.

She could hear Anya’s raised voice even from outside, but she couldn’t make out anything she was saying. She took steadying breaths and tried to ignore the lead pooling in her stomach. Clarke looked at the chairs, but she couldn’t sit - not with the nervous, heart wrenching energy flooding through her. So she paced back and forth and avoided Raven’s eyes. She didn’t want to take the chance that she might find pity in them, too because, _again_. God, she could feel her heart breaking. It wasn’t like Lexa broke up with Costia, wasn’t like Lexa had been the one to end things, and now... if Costia wanted to come back...

“Clarke, I can see you spiraling.”

“I... yeah, a little bit, maybe.” Of course she was spiraling. Twenty minutes ago, Lexa said they were together and, _oh man,_ the fucking butterflies that erupted in her stomach were... dizzying but so fucking welcome at the same time and now-

“Talk to me.”

“They were together for two years, Rae. Two fucking years. And now she’s what? Stranded on some island or something and she _needs_ Lexa. You heard the damn voicemail, and... and... ”

“And what, Clarke?” Raven’s voice sounded almost... stern.

“And how am I supposed to compete with that?”

“Are you kidding me, dude? She looks at you like... like you are the sun and we are all just lucky enough to be circling your orbit.”

“What?” Clarke scoffed. She probably looked at Costia like that, too, in the beginning.

“Okay, fine.” Raven threw her hands up in exasperation or frustration or both. “She just said you guys are together. Did you miss that?”

“No, but that was before-”

“You spent two weeks with her alone. In all that time... well, who do you really think she wants to be with?”

“It’s not like any of it matters now.”

“Seriously? You know what I think? I think... if _you_ think about it, you might realize that it does matter. At least, I’m hoping you will anyway. So?”

“She told me she loves me.”

“Well, that’s not nothing, Clarke. And you love her. I know you do. Actually, I know you have for awhile now. And shit, who cares about Costia? Probably not Lexa, and definitely not Anya. Anya hated her. I don’t really think that girl is welcome here.”

“Probably not Lexa... _probably not_.” So, she also probably could. Probably does.

“I only said probably because I haven’t directly asked her, but I mean. Come on. It’s pretty clear.”

Except... it wasn’t clear, was it? Because yeah, Lexa loved Clarke, but she had history with Costia, and now Costia was in danger and... and Clarke couldn’t forget that she hadn’t exactly been nice to Lexa much, the last few weeks aside, was dwelling on it even harder now. But then again, it wasn’t really nice of Costia to up and leave Lexa, either, so...

Clarke would have given anything to be in that kitchen, just a fly on the wall in that room, so she could better hear the words Lexa was saying. Through the patio door, it was just a muffled, jumbled mess of voices and she couldn’t even be sure if it was Lexa or Anya because neither of them was yelling anymore.

Just as Clarke started to spiral all over again, the door swung open and Lexa mouthed something at Raven but Clarke couldn’t tell what it was; just that her best friend was nodding and walking inside and Lexa was taking another step closer to her and then her hand was on Clarke’s arm and-

“Hey,” her voice was small but steady even though her eyes told Clarke another story, that she was worried, or scared maybe, that Clarke was about to turn her away again. “I’m not... I haven’t answered her, Clarke.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring because it’s not... I don’t know why, but it’s just... not.”

But she did know why. It was because she was head over heels in love with Lexa and she had been for a hell of a lot longer than a week or two and she was terrified that she might lose her all over again.

“No. I... I just wanted you to know. She has friends, other people... She doesn’t need me, Clarke. And even if she did, it’s not... I wouldn’t... I literally do not want to have anything to do with her. I don’t know why she called me. Or texted me.”

“Why,” Clarke swallowed past the Costia-sized lump in her throat, “why didn’t you say anything?”

Lexa’s brows furrowed in concentration or consternation, Clarke couldn’t be sure which, but she managed to keep her voice mostly steady when she tried to explain herself. “Why - Clarke, the first time she called, I didn’t even know. I was... we were... _busy_. And even when I did see it, I didn’t recognize the number. I had no idea and... I... you were in my bed, and you had told me you loved me, and I didn’t even realize I had a voicemail until Anya showed me... I didn’t even think twice about it. I mean, Clarke, she doesn’t matter... you - you matter. You’re all that matters.”

“Fuck,” Clarke whispered.

She leaned against the siding and smiled at Lexa, and Lexa’s eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed and she asked, “Is... is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?”

Clarke smirked at her phrasing (she didn’t think she could ever think about ‘bad fuck’ and Lexa Woods in the same train of thought), and then she shook her head and replied, “You’re just... you know I used to think you were like... a robot or something-”

Lexa scowled. “I’m aware.”

“I was wrong, Lex. I know that now... not only because you go and give these... shit, Lex, I don’t know what to call them, but you’re really fucking good at it, these speeches or whatever they are...” Clarke didn’t know what she was trying to say, but Lexa was looking at her intently and Lexa loved _her_ , not Costia, and maybe she already knew that, she definitely already knew it because “...the whole declaration of love thing you’ve got going on is...” she sighed, “It’s working.”

“Oh yeah?” Lexa’s eyebrow raised and Clarke could see the beginning of a smirk tilting up in the corner of her full lips.

“I mean... yeah,” Clarke nodded sincerely before she felt a smile creeping up on her own face and she shrugged one side of her shoulders when she added, “Doesn’t hurt.”

Lexa released the deepest sigh and her shoulders loosened up a bit as she stepped forward into Clarke’s space. She threaded her fingers together behind Clarke’s neck and let Clarke’s arms wrap around her snuggly before she asked, “Are... are we okay?”

“If she calls you again, I’m gonna kick her ass.” Clarke’s voice was stern, but she was only half-serious - she wasn’t about to jump on a plane during a pandemic just to whoop Lexa’s ex, but... she would absolutely cut a bitch down with her words if she needed to. “But yeah, we’re okay.”

“Oh thank God.” Lexa melted into Clarke’s touch even further. “Anya told me if I couldn’t fix it this time, I was going to find myself out on the street, and-”

“Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah... Clarke she definitely likes you more than me. She puts up with me, there’s a difference.”

“I mean... I am pretty fucking awesome.”

“You are,” Lexa agreed. And then she kissed Clarke and it was light but it was Lexa and Clarke let herself fall into it, into Lexa’s arms, and when Anya mumbled ‘thank God’ from the doorway, Clarke didn’t even hear her.

Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand and tugged her inside. She still needed to get her clothes out of the dryer and finish re-packing her suitcase, and Raven made her promise they’d all hang out and watch a movie since she’d been two weeks without her bestie and she wanted a reason to shove popcorn into her mouth by the handful.

A little after seven, they had all crammed onto the couch. Raven was searching through Netflix titles with Anya while Clarke adjusted her back against the armrest and pulled Lexa closer. Lexa’s legs were draped over Clarke’s and hanging off the couch and her head was propped up against Clarke’s shoulder. When Clarke snaked her arm around Lexa’s back, she shifted even further into Clarke’s embrace. Anya huffed and called them gross, but Clarke didn’t care.

“Just pick an action movie - there’s enough romance happening on that end of the couch and I can’t take much more of it,” Anya said to Raven as she thumbed through the movies.

“Oh, we’re not that bad.” Lexa rolled her eyes over her shoulder at Anya. “And you wanted this. You told me to fix it, you can’t be mad about it now,” she added and then she nuzzled into Clarke’s shoulder and kissed underneath her jaw, and Clarke felt a shiver run through her body that Anya must have noticed.

“I meant _later_ when you’re alone. Not on my couch. Right in front of my popcorn.”

“Oh come on, babe.” Raven rubbed Anya’s neck and smiled at her and Clarke watched Anya quite literally soften right before her eyes. “We’ve been rooting for them for _months_. Personally, I’m stoked. Plus, once this quarantine is over, we can all hang out without fear that Clarke might knife Lexa when she isn’t looking.”

“I guess,” she mumbled.

“It was an axe - not a knife. And I wasn’t gonna use it!” Clarke sassed back.

“Oh shit! That reminds me - I need to text the group tomorrow.” Raven winked at Clarke before adding, “Jasper has had a bet going for awhile now. Although, that night he almost called it off completely. But I wouldn’t let him. I knew. I always know.” Raven tapped her head twice for good measure before, “I think Octavia won.”

“You guys are all assholes.” Clarke glared at her best friend, but she didn’t really mean it. She definitely wouldn’t have bet in favor of them getting together, even if deep down (really deep down) it was all she’d been hoping for.

“Hey,” Lexa whispered against her ear as Raven pushed play on some action movie that had fast cars and explosions in the trailer and would undoubtedly bore Clarke to death - she didn’t really care what they watched anyway. “I love you.”

Clarke brushed her fingers lightly against the underside of Lexa’s jaw and pulled her lips close before she whispered, “I love you, too,” into the nearly nonexistent space between their faces. She pressed her lips to Lexa’s, delicate and slow (so as not to incur more wrath from Anya). But then Lexa’s fingers were tangled in her hair and she could feel Lexa’s tongue slide across her bottom lip (and fuck it, Anya would just have to deal with it) and she let the kiss become more, deeper and heated and the more Lexa licked into her mouth, the more desperate she felt. And there was no way she’d make it to the end of the movie, quality friendship time be damned.

Clarke tried to ignore the incessant snickering from Raven - Lexa was all but completely in her lap and they had been making out for, well Clarke had no idea how long but she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything but the way Lexa’s tongue moved expertly against hers - but then one, two, three pieces of projectile popcorn bounced off of the side of her face and she furrowed her brow as she disentangled her mouth from Lexa’s and glared at her best friend.

“Really Rae? What are you, twelve?”

Raven just shrugged and popped another piece of popcorn into her mouth. “What I am,” she said after she swallowed, “is a concerned friend. Oxygen deprivation is very serious, Clarke, and you’ve been sucking face for like... forty minutes now. Also,” she popped another piece into her mouth, “Anya looks like she might throw up and I’d very much like it if she wasn’t nauseous when I rip her clothes off later tonight after you both leave.”

“We can go ahead and,” Clarke pointed over her shoulder to the door that led to the garage, “you know...”

“Fine, fine... go. But be back over here by eleven tomorrow. I expect a full four-course lunch apology for this pathetic excuse of a movie night.”

“That’s not fucking happening,” Clarke laughed. “But I can make the banana cream pie you love so much - for after dinner - if you want.”

“Ooh, yeah. Alright, you’re forgiven. Now, go. Shoo. Starve your bodies of air at your own apartment so we don’t have to watch it.”

“It’s not _our_ apartment,” Clarke mumbled as she pushed Lexa’s legs off her lap and reached for her hand to help her up off of the couch.

“To be fair,” Lexa said as she grasped the offered hand, “it isn’t much of an apartment at all.”

“It was supposed to be temporary,” Anya spat back with a playful eye-roll.

Raven paused the movie and handed the popcorn bowl to Clarke so she could put it in the sink with her empty water glass and then she gave Clarke a hug followed by a solid smack on the ass and a quick, “get it girl,” before Clarke caught up to Lexa who had already managed to haul her suitcase back upstairs and was half out of her jeans already.

“What’s this? Getting naked without me?”

“Just... getting more comfortable.” Lexa stepped out of her pants and spun around so she could wrap her arms around Clarke. “I was wondering something, though.”

Clarke snaked her hands up the front of Lexa’s shirt and leaned into her chest. “What’s that?”

“Earlier... did that, um, count as a fight?”

Clarke’s eyebrows creased and she drew back to look into deep, concerned green eyes. “Should it?”

“Well. No, I hope not. But if it did... I was thinking... maybe I should apologize... and you know... make it up to you.”

“Oh.” _Oh_. “Then, yes. It was definitely a fight and you,” Clarke licked her lips, “should absolutely,” and leaned in closer, “make it up to me.”

When their mouths collided, it was a frenzied mess of teeth and tongue and tangled limbs as Clarke pushed and Lexa pulled them both down onto the mattress. And then Lexa spent hours, _fucking hours_ , between Clarke’s legs - her mouth, her fingers, everything she had to give she gave to Clarke - and if Clarke struggled to walk in the morning, _fuck_ , it was definitely worth it.

________

Clarke woke up on Saturday morning stark naked and incredibly annoyed by the incessant buzzing of Lexa’s phone against the wood of the nightstand. She groaned and rolled over and told Lexa to “make it stop” but she was still clinging to sleep, so Clarke climbed over her and smacked at the offensive tech until it stopped. It wasn’t until she had rolled back over and slumped down that Lexa’s eyes shot open and Clarke heard the faint “Hello... hello?” coming from the phone.

“Shit, Clarke - did you answer it?” Lexa whispered as she pushed her own naked body up onto her elbows.

“I dunno, I just smacked at it.” She sat back up and reached for Lexa’s phone and sure enough, the call was connected and it was an international number and that could only mean one thing: Costia.

“ _Hello_?”

Clarke put the phone up to her ear and steadied her voice. “Hello?”

“ _Lexa_?”

“Nope,” she said with an exaggerated pop. “Listen - she’s starring in somebody else’s fairy tale now and, as her girlfriend, I’d really appreciate it if her ex, and by that I do mean you, obviously, would stop calling her.”

“ _Her... girlfriend?_ ”

“Yeah. And hey, I dunno what time it is where you are, but we had a very late night, if you know what I mean, and I need at least... hm, about another hour of rest before we go again. So I’m gonna let you go and like I said, it would super cool of you to just, you know, didn’t call again. Mmkay? Thanks!”

Clarke ended the call and handed the phone back to Lexa. She waited a beat, to make sure she hadn’t overstepped, to make sure Lexa wasn’t mad or something, but Lexa was just smiling at her curiously. Clarke watched as Lexa slowly pushed the covers back and threw one leg over the side of Clarke’s body, then wiggled her way backward down the bed.

“What?” Clarke eyed her with one eyebrow up.

“I like that,” Lexa said before she peppered Clarke’s stomach with kisses. “When you call me your girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” she answered, kissing further down to the inside of Clarke’s thighs. “And,” kiss, “I think that you,” another kiss, “do, too.”

“I - yeah.” Clarke’s breath caught when Lexa’s tongue swiped up through her and _fuck_ , she hadn’t been serious about going again but she was definitely not opposed - not when Lexa’s tongue was hot against her skin and she was gripping and pushing Clarke’s thighs further apart.

Clarke hissed and threaded her fingers into Lexa’s hair and urged her up and Lexa whined but relented, kissed her way back up Clarke’s stomach and stopped when she got to Clarke’s chest. Clarke sank further into the bed under the weight of Lexa’s body above hers, and her hips canted as Lexa massaged her breast, rolled a hard nipple between her thumb and fingers and circled and sucked her other nipple with her tongue and her teeth.

“Fu - Lex.” She clawed at Lexa’s back until she stopped and rested her head on Clarke’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and shifted her body off of Clarke so she was laying to the side of Clarke instead, with one leg still spread across Clarke’s thighs. “I didn’t-”

“Oh baby, no. No, just... it’s all still very... _sensitive_ ,” Clarke whispered back. “I need you to go slower.”

Lexa propped her head up and smiled. “I can do that... if you’re sure-”

“Oh I’m sure.” Clarke nodded. “But... can you... stay, up here, with me?”

“Of course.” Lexa leaned in and kissed Clarke, hard but slow and Clarke could feel the fire start to burn through her body, from her neck and down her spine and into her very core, and it wasn’t long before she was soaked through and dripping onto the bed. And she knew she wouldn’t last long, her body still spent from the night before, but she wanted Lexa close and she couldn’t say no to those green eyes, especially not when they were searching her own, reading her, like she was the answer to everything Lexa ever wanted to know.

Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand and guided it down her body. She watched as Lexa’s eyes turned dark, could feel Lexa’s breath coming in short, fast puffs. And as she watched Lexa watch her, she could feel the heat flood through Lexa and coat the outside of her thigh.

“Come here.” She pressed her hand against Lexa’s back and guided her back over until Lexa was straddling her thigh.

Clarke pushed Lexa’s hand lower at the same time that she moved her free hand from around Lexa’s back down to her thigh, and when Lexa’s fingers slid into slick warmth, Clarke angled her own hand and pressed one shaky finger against Lexa’s already swollen clit. Lexa’s hips canted down against her fingers, so she slid her hand lower for better access, and when she sank two fingers deep into Lexa, she could feel a shaky breath let out against her cheek.

“Fuck...” Lexa’s hips canted to the rhythm Clarke had set, but her own fingers had stilled inside of Clarke, so she reached down again and pushed Lexa’s fingers through her deeper. She could feel her own wetness on her fingertips as she pushed two fingers in.

Lexa groaned as soon as her fingers were inside of Clarke and then she was moving them to the pace Clarke set. Clarke could feel Lexa’s walls start to tighten around her fingers and, fuck, neither of them could stop it. She knew Lexa was already so close-

“Lex - more,” Clarke choked out.

Lexa pulled her fingers out and then pushed three back in, deep and filling and Clarke gasped, “Fast - go... fast.”

Lexa sped up her fingers and Clarke brushed against Lexa’s cit with her thumb as she pumped in and out at the same speed and when Lexa curled her fingers, Clarke could tell-

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Me, ye-ah, fuck-”

And then Lexa was spilling into Clarke’s hand and her back was tight and Clarke couldn’t stop her own back from arching off the bed as her eyes slammed shut and her entire body rocked from the force of her orgasm. Clarke’s back crashed against the bed and then she felt Lexa’s sweaty body collapse beside her, could feel the ragged breaths as Lexa came down.

“Shit,” Clarke said as she pushed wet hair off of her forehead. “Baffles me, it just... why anybody would let you go.”

“Then don’t.” Lexa smiled against her neck and draped her arm lazily across Clarke’s body.

“Mmm, not gonna,” Clarke replied sleepily.

“Good.” Lexa nodded and then she pushed up just enough to reach the blanket she had thrown off of them earlier so she could cover them both back up.

Clarke buried her face against the crook of Lexa’s neck and listened to Lexa’s heartbeat - it sounded a lot like her own heartbeat, and maybe that was just anatomy, or maybe it was more, she didn’t know, but she fell asleep to the rhythm just the same.

______

It wasn’t until late Monday afternoon that Raven popped the little bubble Clarke and Lexa had been living in. Clarke was busy chopping vegetables up for dinner when Raven came in to the kitchen with news.

“Emerson called. He said they did have to tear down a wall, but everything is fixed, painted, and ready for us to move back in. I called a couple of moving companies. BuffBros Movers and Co said they can do it - they’re wearing masks and checking temperatures and all that, but I figured I’d talk to you before I booked anything.”

“Oh.” Clarke’s heart sank into her chest. Of course, she knew eventually she’d have to get back to reality, to her own place, without Lexa... She just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and she definitely did not feel ready for it.

“I know. Um, but we need to talk... Clarke... you know me, you know I’ve never been one to jump into anything and before this whole mess happened, I didn’t think I was ready, um, to move in with Anya, but-”

“But you’ve basically been living together for over a month now.”

“Exactly... and, well. She and I talked about it, before... before I got the call, about our apartment... about, well, making it more permanent, the living together thing. Clarke, I’m ready and... I’m not moving back into the apartment.”

“Shit... I can’t afford that place on my own, Rae. And I don’t even know how to find a roommate, like, with everything-”

“I’ll help with rent until you do, but um... well, I think I know someone who might be interested.” and then Raven looked over into the living room where Lexa was on the couch with Anya and they were doing the Sunday crossword puzzle together.

“Rae... I don’t, she probably doesn’t even-” but then Clarke caught Lexa’s eyes and she was smiling at Clarke and-

“Clarke... that is not the look of someone who would be opposed to anything you offer. I mean, those heart eyes are fucking raging in your direction, babe.”

“I... yeah, but... aren’t you the one who always says what a terrible idea it is to U-haul in the first place? We’ve been together like... a couple of days, Rae.”

“Clarke, you two have been together for a lot longer than that - you were just both being stubborn. Or stupid. Or both.”

But Clarke wasn’t sure they should... or could, even. Or that Lexa would really be up for taking that next step, because despite what Raven said being mostly true, it wasn’t - they hadn’t been together that long, and if they did jump into something, what if... what if it all fell apart? Or-

What if all fell perfectly together? Maybe that was more terrifying to Clarke than the idea that it wouldn’t work... the idea that it would, that she and Lexa were solid enough, already, in such a short time. Because she had never wanted to move in with anybody before, had never been ready. But when she looked at Lexa... she already felt like she was home.

So what difference would it make _where_ they were together, if they were, in fact, together? Lexa didn’t love her makeshift apartment, she had said that enough, and it was supposed to be temporary, after all... And it wasn’t like Clarke _couldn’t_ live on her own - she could downsize to a one bedroom she could afford. But she didn’t _want_ to live alone, not when she could live with her girlfriend, with Lexa. It was definitely something to consider...

Raven broke the news over dinner and even though Lexa smiled and told Anya she was happy for her, when she looked at Clarke, her smile faltered - she didn’t want Clarke to leave, Clarke could see it in the way Lexa’s eyes changed from green to an almost gray color, in the way her shoulders slumped the tiniest bit forward, and Clarke couldn’t pinpoint the moment that she learned, that she understood, all of Lexa’s tiny tells, but she had and she wasn’t ready to leave Lexa, either.

Dinner was quieter after that and Lexa didn’t say much when she helped Clarke do the dishes, either. She laced their fingers together as she led Clarke up the stairs later that evening, but she didn’t actually say anything - even after they’d gotten back inside. It was clear to Clarke that Lexa’s mind was somewhere else, she could see the wheels turning by the way Lexa’s eyes moved around the room, not really focusing on anything but looking at everything.

“So, Raven and Anya,” Clarke said to Lexa when they had finally settled onto the futon, back in the temporary comfort of the garage apartment and their tiny bubble of bliss.

“Yeah.” Lexa nodded. “I mean, it’s about time, really. They’re... they’re good for each other.”

“They are, definitely. I just... I dunno,” Clarke shifted in her spot next to Lexa and tried to calm the nervous pit that was growing in her stomach. “I need to find a roommate,” she managed to say with a tone much lighter than she felt, a hint of something more in the way she said it, the way she looked at Lexa with a curious glint and almost imperceptible smile - she was testing the waters, letting the idea roll around between them.

“You... oh.” Lexa nodded, but then she looked over at Clarke and their eyes locked. Clarke watched something shift in her body language and her eyes were bright green and there was a kind of smile playing in the corner of her mouth. And maybe she caught Clarke’s tone, maybe she had been mulling it over, too.

So Clarke took a chance. Her confidence faltered as soon as she started speaking and an almost panic filled her stomach, but she pushed through, or tried to, even as the words jumbled and came out a mess of nothing-

“I was thinking... since this isn’t really an apartment, and we... I mean, if it’s too soon, I totally get that, I just... um, if you thought, maybe... we could, you could, um-”

“Yeah. We could, I could... if you’re asking-”

“Really?” Clarke squeaked out and if her voice was higher than normal, she blamed it on how calm and confident Lexa’s voice had been, like she knew it was coming, like she was _ready_ for it, for them, for the next step and the future. And maybe Clarke was getting ahead of herself, but maybe she wasn’t because Lexa was smiling at her and it was bright. It was the kind of smile she’d only seen once before - the smile from an old photograph she wanted to immortalize in paint and charcoal and maybe even clay if she could figure out how to.

“Yes, really. If you’re asking.” Lexa placed her hand on Clarke’s knee to calm the bouncing up and down it had been doing that Clarke didn’t even realize was happening.

“I am, I... yeah, yes - I am asking. I’m ready and I’m terrified but like... in a good way, if that makes sense, and I feel crazy, like... it’s crazy isn’t it? How soon-”

“Maybe,” Lexa shrugged, “but I’m crazy about you and... You know what I think is crazy? I think it’s crazy that I’m not scared, Clarke. Because... I should be, especially after everything in Chicago... but, I’m not. Because you’re... you’re you.”

“So... so we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this, Clarke.”

Clarke’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She grabbed Lexa’s arms and pulled her in closer and closer until Lexa was almost in her lap again she buried her smile against Lexa’s shoulder. She didn’t know when Lexa’s arms had become her safe space, or what moment exactly it was when Lexa’s smile turned into her favorite part of the day, but it had and she would thank whatever God she needed to for Lexa Woods, if she could.

“Well, then you better take me to bed, make the most of that mattress while we still can.”

“What?”

“Babe, we only need one bed and I have a Tempur-pedic - it’s like sleeping on a fucking cloud,” Clark reasoned, but the curious look on Lexa’s face gave her momentary pause. “What? Were you actually planning on moving into the other room?”

“No, no... I just... I like that mattress.” Lexa smirked. “Lots of... good memories in that bed.”

“Mmhmm.” Clarke stood up and tugged at Lexa’s hand. “Well, I think we can make a few more _memories_ before Friday when the movers come.” Clarke led Lexa over to the edge of the bed and pushed her down gently.

And it felt different, somehow. Clarke couldn’t pinpoint it, not exactly, but it felt like it was their first time all over again, in a completely new way, the way Lexa mapped her skin and let Clarke do the same. It was soft and it was gentle and it was absolutely _everything_.

* * *

Ten months ago, a pandemic rocked the world and altered life as everyone knew it - but, even though things had changed since then, a lot of things were, oddly, the same. Bars, restaurants, gyms, everything reopened and slowly, as the panic subsided and people’s walls came down, crowds returned for happy hours, for fancy dinners out, for workout routines, tattoos, and hair cuts - so many hair cuts.

Clarke went back to bartending for about two months before she realized she wasn’t really happy at work anymore. The time she had spent in quarantine painting and laughing and with Lexa, made her realize that she had been using her job as an excuse (she was good at it, she made good money, it was fine) to avoid her fears - that maybe she wasn’t good enough at art, that maybe she was past the point of college, that she couldn’t make a living doing what she loved. But Lexa was there and she was encouraging and she made Clarke feel like... like she could do anything. So, she quit the bar and decided to follow her dreams. And yeah, maybe she’d go into debt, but maybe she’d land her dream job someday and for the first time, it felt like that could be worth it.

Lexa’s boss had reached out to her about doing online training classes, but she had been sick and missed the notification altogether. When she finally explained what had happened, her boss had replaced her, so she combed through ads and searched for something she could do. But the economy had taken a real hit and a lot of businesses, it seemed, weren’t going to pull through the financial loss the shut-down had caused. Still, she was shocked when Echo reached out (mostly because of Bellamy, not because she and Echo didn’t get along). Apparently the time in quarantine allowed Echo to discover a new passion - cooking - and she was headed to culinary school. She wasn’t closing the gym, but she needed a manager, someone who would have the same dedication she’d had to the place, and Lexa was her obvious choice.

Clarke and Lexa settled into domestic life with a comfortable ease. Lexa brought her all-in-one weight machine and set it up in the second bedroom, right across from Clarke’s easel and the little splotches of paint on the floor beneath it. The first time the group gathered again, once the restrictions had been lifted and they all felt safe enough to venture out to their favorite bar in the middle of the city, Harper quite literally shrieked with joy at the sight of them kissing and Jasper begrudgingly handed Octavia a wad of cash for winning their little bet - apparently he had been the only one to bet it wouldn’t happen at all (although, had Bellamy been given an opportunity to make a wager, he probably would have agreed with Jasper).

But Bellamy got over himself; he had to, what with Octavia and Echo both on his case, and Clarke promising him that everything was fine, that Lexa was ‘the one’ even, he didn’t have much of a choice. Abby was probably Lexa’s biggest concern, in all honesty, given the fact that she’d already broken her daughter’s heart once and then add to that the fact that Clarke put herself at risk... more than once... during the pandemic. Lexa was sure Abby wanted her head on a stake for at least one of those things despite Clarke’s promise that everything had worked out and she never got sick.

Clarke made dinner and invited Abby and her husband, Marcus, over to see their apartment (because Clarke insisted it was different now that Raven was gone, that her mother should come see her new place, even if it wasn’t ‘new’ exactly). Lexa did her best to smile even while she mostly avoided meeting Abby’s eyes. But then Marcus pulled her aside and welcomed her to the family with a quick little pep talk about Griffin women, and he slid her his cell number in case of emergencies or if she needed advice - apparently being wildly stubborn was a genetic trait that passed from mother to daughter - and it felt really nice and she rejoined the conversation with an added sense of comfort.

And when Clarke walked her mother out at the end of the night, (after a rather lengthy game of Pictionary that took a turn when Clarke realized Lexa couldn’t draw for shit and really, they should have talked about that before opting to play Pictionary of all things, but they hadn’t and Clarke refused to quit until she and Lexa had won), Lexa heard Abby ask Clarke how things were really going and she could hear the smile in Clarke’s voice when she said, “Things are perfect, Mom - she’s perfect. For me, I mean.”

But for as amazing as things had been, Lexa still didn’t expect to be standing in a church so soon, next to Anya who looked almost ethereal in her wedding gown and wearing a smile on her face that was bigger and brighter than any she had seen on her sister’s face before - because she was looking at Raven and they were saying ‘I do’ to the rest of their lives together. And it made Lexa play out a scenario that was familiar but different just the same, because it was her at that alter and it was Clarke standing opposite her, and it was everything she wanted in that moment... in every moment afterward.

Clarke looked over at Lexa as she shifted uncomfortably in the heels Anya made her wear (‘they compliment the dress, Lexa, and yes you are wearing a dress, it’s my wedding’) and waited to be led back down the aisle for pictures and drinks before the party that was surely going to start without them, especially if Octavia had anything to say about it. Clarke took in every inch of Lexa’s lithe frame and when she finally looked up and locked eyes with Lexa, she was smirking and Clarke could tell exactly what she was thinking... maybe she could find an abandoned hallway somewhere and make quick work of that dress.

But she had other things on her mind, too, like Lexa wearing white instead of green. She’d been thinking about that a lot, actually, ever since Lexa’s birthday when Clarke revealed the painting she had been working on for months - the one with Lexa on her graduation day sporting a smile that Clarke once thought would never grace those pouty, full lips again - a smile that Clarke had seen a lot, lately, and seemed to be reserved only for her (and maybe Anya, but just for today, her wedding day, and Clarke was okay with that), a smile she knew she wanted to see for the rest of her life.

“So,” Lincoln bumped Lexa’s shoulder as they stood together for their photo with Anya, “we gonna be back here soon, or what?”

“You better not propose to her tonight - do not steal my fucking thunder, Lexa.” Anya pointed her finger very aggressively at Lexa, but Lexa just laughed it off.

“I’m not proposing to Clarke.” She shook her head and then looked at Lincoln before adding, “Not tonight, anyway. But yeah, keep your calendar open.”

Lincoln let out a wolf whistle that caught the attention of Clarke and Raven who were staring at him suspiciously, so Lexa ducked her head and tugged at his sleeve to get him back in line.

“What was that about?” Raven looked to Clarke like she should have an answer.

“I have no idea. He’s probably just happy for you guys.” Clarke shrugged.

“Nuh-uh. Your girlfriend is blushing. Oh my God. Is she going to propose? Do you think-”

“Raven, no!”

“No?” Raven tilted her head suspiciously. “Why the tone? You sound so... aggressively against it.” Her face fell a fraction of an inch when she asked, “Are you guys not-”

“Tonight is your night. And it’s Anya’s night. And... I just don’t think she will.”

“But you do think about it.” Raven’s face brightened back up and she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Of course I think about it.” She looked over at Lexa and smiled. Yeah, she definitely thought about it. “Our anniversary is coming up and... she rented a cabin for us - I’m not supposed to know yet, so keep your mouth shut.”

“Oh my God! I’m so happy for you!” Raven all but squealed as she pulled Clarke into a hug that all but ripped the air from her lungs and left her coughing and clutching her chest as she stammered backward.

The reception hall was beautiful and so were the speeches. Lexa reminisced about another time, a lifetime ago, when Anya was tough as nails and had a scowl present on her face at all times, until a sassy someone named Raven crashed through her walls and tore them all down - not little by little but all at once, like the force that Raven was, and that Lexa had seen her sister _blush_ for the first time in her life, because of Raven, and she was so thankful to be gaining a sister - it was heartfelt and sappy and she had people near to tears by the end of it.

Clarke took another route. She told people about college Raven, about the time she blew up the chem lab and failed her mid-term, and how steadfast and headstrong and somewhat scary Raven Reyes could be, why she was glad Anya was the one because of course, the only person for Raven would be just as terrifying, even if she was scary in a completely different way - the kind of way that was less accidental and more premeditated murder. And then she demanded nieces and nephews and promised to spoil them with cake for dinner and cavities for dessert and the only tears people had left were from laughing.

And for all of the comments about how well Raven and Anya complemented each other, there were just as many comments about Clarke and Lexa, whispers about the bridesmaids who were so obviously in love that everybody expected to be back at a wedding again soon. Clarke lost Lexa in the crowd somewhere between the dance floor and the bar, so she snagged a seat and asked for a glass of wine, thought about the last time she was at a party a lot like this one, when she first caught sight of the woman of her dreams, before a familiar voice behind her pulled her from her reverie.

“Great party, am I right?”

“It is, actually.” Clarke smiled and stood up into Lexa’s embrace. “Have I told you yet how absolutely stunning you look?”

Lexa groaned. “You have but you know I hate this, right? The shoes are an atrocity against women.”

“Oh, I dunno... I kinda like that you’re even taller than me, now.”

“Well, the height advantage _is_ nice... I mean, the view alone...” She smirked and looked down into the copious cleavage on display before her, “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“You have.” Clarke nodded.

“Good. You are, by far, the most beautiful woman here. And I know they’re going to cut the cake soon, but-”

“But you wanna take me up to your hotel room?” Clarke’s eyebrow popped up and she shook her head at Lexa who was just grinning like an idiot.

“If it’s not too forward, I mean... yes. Absolutely,” Lexa nodded and she kissed Clarke softly, and their mouths moved together like they’d been kissing for centuries, and butterflies sprang to life in both of their bellies because they always did, and they always would - because Clarke and Lexa were eternal, meant to be, in every life, in any life, they would find each other.

And in two months, they’d be engaged. And then married. Clarke would be selling paintings and curating museums and Lexa would eventually buy the gym from Echo (when she came back from culinary school, Echo jumped on the food truck bandwagon and Spyghetti, the best pasta food truck in town, was born) and it wouldn’t be long before the gym was on the map as one of the best martial arts training gyms in the state. Lexa would host competitions and start up a youth program. And Clarke would spend her weekends with her sketchbook watching her wife teach the little Natblidas how to chop and kick and take each other down. Sometimes Lincoln would show up with Octavia and their son and Lincoln would take over the class so Lexa could kick Octavia’s ass in the ring for old times’ sake.

As they aged, and the suggestion of bar hopping was met with groans about sore bodies that did not recover as quickly after a late night out, Raven and Anya started hosting monthly dinner parties so everybody could still hang out. The yard was big enough for all of the kids to run around and play while Lexa manned the grill and Clarke mixed drinks for her friends. It was an amazing life, and it didn’t matter that Clarke and Lexa had started out rough, or that Clarke would be stubborn until they day she died, because Lexa was patient and they loved each other. And even if they didn’t know what exactly the future would hold, they knew one thing for certain - they would live happily ever after.


End file.
